Scouting for Prince Charming
by Amaterasu Kinesi
Summary: Seven-year-old Bella is on a quest: Finding Prince Charming. Who should she stumble upon if not a willing, if a little uncertain, fourteen-year-old stranger by the name of Jasper to step up to the task? See them grow along the way into the woman and man they'll need to become in order to be in each others lives. Hopefully, where there's a Prince, there's always a Knight in waiting.
1. The One

**_DISCLAIMER:_**

**Please Note****:**

_For all intents and purposes;_

_No copyright infringement is intended. _

_This story is being written for recreational purposes __only__._

_The Twilight Saga and all characters involved within the plotline of this story are the property of the author, Stephenie Meyer._

_However, the plot is entirely my own._

**_–_****_This applies to the rest of this story._**

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><p><strong><span>…...<span>**

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><p><strong>SCOUTING FOR PRINCE CHARMING<strong>

_BY_

_AMATERASU KINESI_

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><p><strong><em>Tale I:<em>**

_The One_

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><p><em><span>...<span>_

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><p><strong>Bella's POV<strong>

_..._

**_~Thursday, September 11~_**

_..._

There are people walking to and fro all around me, only pausing to consult their directories or cellphones for the time, stopping at a kiosks, or disappearing into a store to shop. Whereas I, Isabella 'Bella' Swan, am quietly sitting down with my purple themed backpack, a _Dora the Explorer Rescue Bag, _securely strapped onto my back and people watching. From my seat on the ridge of _Scottsdale Fashion Square Mall's_ fountain, I hug my legs tightly to my chest to rest my chin on my knees and tilt my head slightly in search of my next victim...

Fifteen minutes later and still no suitable prospects in sight, I start to feel beyond depressed and just straight out of luck as my scouting amounts to nothing, yet again. _Sigh_. Just as I'm about to resign myself and call it quits on my one-month quest, thinking that today just isn't going to be my day, I spy a glimpse of someone out of the corner of my right eye and perk up. As I sit up straighter and do a double take to my right—just then—that's when I see _him_.

_I can't believe it! _

As my eyes take in the sight of him my stomach does a backward somersault and my heart skips more than a few beats… Then the pitter-patter of my heart goes '_Donkey Kong'_ crazy on me and my face feels too hot! Trying to smother the scorching blush blazing brightly across my naturally rosy cheeks, I place my cold palms over them and discover that, to make matters worse, my palms are now extremely sweaty!

_Finally, I've found him!_

There he is… Just across the hallway from me, outshining the decorative plant next to him and nearly concealed on the other side of a kiosk. Leaning casually against the corner column to the right of _Brookstone _with his boot clad feet crossed daintily at the ankles and looking considerably bored, he seems oblivious to everything outside of himself.

Mommy once said that leaning against a wall like that is called… What was it again? The word is relatively similar to boredom, which I was suffering from before finding _him_. Now, I feel like my small body can't contain my swelling heart any longer. It's beating so eager and fast now that it might just take flight! Drying my sweaty palms on my thighs, I think hard.

Wait! Was it _brewing_? No, no, that sounds like something you do in the kitchen… I _think_. Ah, yes, I remember now! It's _brooding!_ Yes, that's it! That's what you call it! My victim is leaning against the beige column with his eyes closed, arms crossed over his chest, feet overlapping at the ankles, chin resting on his chest, and _brooding._ In my eyes, he seems to execute all these casual, stationary motions with undeniable air of elegance. And I'm willing to bet that I'm not the only one who thinks so.

Considering how those who pass him by stare after him, I can only assume that they seem to think so too. I can tell. Simply standing there and leaning against that huge column, he's earning himself quite a few glances now and again. Given that I love to people watch frequently, I can tell that the looks are all _very_ appreciative and mainly attracting a variety of whispering, giggling females—girls and women alike.

Fleetingly, I wonder if he's waiting on someone and just as swiftly decide that it really doesn't matter after all. So long as I get a chance to walk up to him and talk to him before the person he's waiting on takes him away, I'll be a very happy girl. Mind made up, I nod and dry my palms on my thighs once more. Swallowing nervously, I uncurl myself from my current position so I can get to my feet, walk the distance between me and him, and hopefully talk to him.

Sliding off the fountain's ledge I hop to a standing position and I'm very happily surprised when I don't trip, or stumble, while doing so. Shrugging as I remain standing on my clumsy feet, I smile triumphantly at the small miracle. Squaring my shoulders, I purposefully set my feet in motion and keep my sights on the brooding blond as I tighten my backpack's straps out of habit, heading over to his side of the mall.

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><p><em><span>…<span>_

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><p>Once I'm about four feet away from reaching him and my nerves get the best of me, I come to an abrupt halt. Trying to get my heart to slow down and the butterflies in my stomach to calm down, I take a deep breath for oxygenated courage and slowly let it out through my mouth with a <em>whoosh<em>. Now that the moment is finally here, it's only natural that I'm nervous! After all, he's exactly who I've been looking for this past month and all of this afternoon. Therefore, I _have_ to make a good first impression. It is _imperative _that I do.

The moment I find the courage to walk the last few steps and stand right before him, all the chattering from the mall becomes background noise and ceases altogether. Unable to find my voice just yet, I find myself just staring up at him. Now that I'm up-close and able to see his face clearly, I decide that I've been right about him all along...

_I have found him!_ He is _The One_.

Taking another moment to pluck up the nerve to actually _say _something, I really look at him and take all of his features in. There's a classic handsomeness about him that can be attributed to his straight nose, which borders on delicate, as well as the sharp, slightly hollowed but protuberant cheekbones, and strong jaw just starting to square. There's even a small shadow at the center of his chin that hints at a cleft, but a subtle one, making him all the more handsome for it.

Meanwhile, his skin is evenly sun-kissed, a color that I think suites him well, and gives his complexion a healthy ruddiness that gives way to the more prominent features of his face. While staring at his face before me, one thing is made clear to me as I take notice of the fact that there are no signs of a beard, like the one my daddy sometimes grows on his face, or any five o'clock shadow growing in. He's still a boy. An older boy, yes, but still a boy.

As my scrutiny extends to his head, I first realize that his hair is ash-blond, thick, and has a slight waviness to it, adding more volume and height to his lean stature. Styled in a faux hawk fade, his hair compliments his angular bone structure efficiently and adds an elegant yet edgy look to his features. Although a darker shade of blond, his eyebrows are the right thickness and add character to his slightly boyish appearance, setting the structure of his eyes perfectly. Whereas the eyelashes framing his eyelids are a lighter blond than his hair and probably ghost softly over his cheeks every time he blinks, casting soft shadows as they now do since they are long and thick.

As I conclude my scrutiny, the oblivious boy before me sighs irritably and shifts slightly, re-crossing his feet at the ankles so that his right foot now rests over his left. The suddenness of his actions startle me out of my awestruck trance and makes me blush furiously. His reaction serving as a reminder that it is not polite to stare, under any circumstances, and I suddenly feel slightly guilty, since I've been staring at him critically all this time.

_Maybe he isn't so oblivious after all…_

Chances are he probably senses my staring, due to my seemingly unabashed scrutiny, and feels self-conscious, which might very soon turn to irritation. Still, to my utter disbelieve, his eyes remain closed, though his eyebrows become knitted. Blinking owlishly, I stare up at him a moment longer and will him with my probing stare to _please _open his eyes and look at me.

If I'm ever going to talk to him, I _need _him to notice me.

All the same, he doesn't budge.

Feeling slightly nervous, I look around me and notice for the first time that the crowd of shoppers is significantly thinning. This sudden change makes the mall, previously fully packed with shoppers going about their shopping with loud, buzzing, and indistinct chatter, a much quieter place. I am relieved and grateful for this sudden change. I want to be heard. Need the boy in front of me to hear what I have to say. And I just know that this much quieter environment will help my case.

Being the shy seven-year-old that I am, I'm not a very loud spoken person by nature, which is one of the main reasons why I usually choose to lose myself in the pages of my books and avoid crowds. Instead of striking up conversations, I much prefer to devote my time to discovering new worlds filled with fairytales, princes and princesses, knights in shining armors with unbelievable quests, dragons, secret worlds, gardens, and heroes. On any given day, my world of fantasy makes for a better universe than the one I live in but feel I don't belong to.

In addition to the inherent shyness, I mostly like to keep to myself anyway. _Usually_, because I become a blushing and stuttering mess every time I try, I never go out of my way to speak to people. Much less a total stranger! But since this situation is especial, I want to be brave and go out of my comfort zone. Just this once, I'll forget all about my shyness and be heard.

No matter how many shades of red I discover and blush along the way, I have to do this for myself. So long as he hears me out, I remind myself, it will be worth the humiliation. After all, he is _The One_! Breathing in oxygen-courage, I stretch out an arm and reach toward him. After a heartbeat's hesitation, I reach for the boy's closest piece of clothing and tug, twice. Once again, as I wait for him to open his eyes and look at me, I remind myself to breathe. Sometimes, you know, I just tend to forget how and when to breathe…

A moment later, his eyes flash open and I gasp slightly as I realize that his eyes, a clear aqua, match the color of the accents in my bedroom. Uncertainty flutters in my stomach, sending those butterflies into a frenzy, the moment I realize that he is much more beautiful than I originally thought. Immediately his brow furrows as his gaze goes right over my head and he sees nobody standing before him or annoying him.

Like always, when things like this happen, I get slightly annoyed and my temper gets the better of me. Taller people, I've learned, always do this. They never seem to expect the little people to want for their attention too. _Why is that? _

Thankfully, his reaction distracts me from my uncertainty and once again I know what to do to grab his attention. Clearing my throat irritably, I decide to speak up before my growing disappoint can take root. He can't be any one else _but _The One, I am sure. Thought I don't think I quite manage it, I really, _really_ try not to sound as irritated as I feel when I clear my throat again.

"_Down_ here," I say, finally speaking up.

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><p><span><strong><em>...<em>**

**_..._**

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><p><strong>Jasper's POV<strong>

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**_~Thursday, September 11~_**

_..._

Kidnapped by people who claim to love me but only wish to inflict a severe case of brain-putty upon my wilting brain, I am certain, I've been brought to my least favorite place in the planet—a crowded and noisy place called _Scottsdale Fashion Square Mall_. Once again, I live to see another day confined within the walls of this mall—my worst nightmare.

Please, don't say it. Don't even _think_ it. Since I have enough confidence in myself, I can. But you most certainly can't. _Poor,_ _wittle,_ _Jasper Whitlock..._ There. I thought it. Happy? 'Cause I'm not.

I can almost hear the News headlines:

_"__Jasper Hadrian Whitlock, male, 5'6", of age 14 as of last August, reportedly perished today at the mall, suddenly, due to boredom and wilting of the brain. Our hearts go out to his family during their time of sorrow." _

Now, before you go and judge me, let me just inform y'all that I'm not the type who's much into drama, under normal circumstances. No, really, I'm not the type. In fact, usually, I'm all about the action, you know? It's a guy thing. But when, like me, you are faced under the reign and regimen of a 5'4" She-Devil who's wearing an added height of 6" stilettos, courtesy of _(I-Hate-You-With-a-Passion)_ _Prada_, and claiming to be the authority, given that said She-Devil _is_ my aunt, normal circumstances are expected to be damned.

Add my momma to the mix in her 6" _Louis Vuitton_ art deco ankle boots in calf and suede and you've got yourself a time bomb ready to detonate _any_ second. Oh, and did I mention? They both possess this terrifying ability to wrap men and young men alike (better yet if they are their kids) around their little fingers, turning them into their submissive little slaves, or make them cry a river.

Keeping that in mind, I bet that you can now understand how even I can fall prey to the clutches of drama-acutest. However, even though it's only late afternoon on a Thursday and I've been dragged—kidnapped, really—into coming to the _Scottsdale Fashion Square Mall_ for the _fifth_ time this week, I had put my foot down at being dragged around the whole mall all over again and insisted on staying behind.

There's only so much I can handle without using drastic measures. Besides, I've already been to this accursed mall _twice_ today already. Thus, I made the decision to remove myself from this latest shopping expedition and leave my poor cousin, Emmett, to fend for himself. Hopefully, he'll be smart enough not to get caught between the crossfire of the two most important women in our lives—our eccentric mommas.

_There's only so much my male pride can take people! _

Emmett, unfortunately, became collateral damage in the process… I will make it up to him… Later. Much, _much _later. Somehow… If I survive another day to tell the tale…

That is why, if anyone had been looking for me, they would have found me near _Brookstone_, leaning against the corner column and brooding with my eyes closed. _What?_ I'm sporting a barking, pounding headache and trying to ignore all the chatter and stares of the people around me. _Don't dis it 'til you've endured it_, I always say.

Especially when it concerns my momma at the mall, together and alongside her favorite little She-Devil, Alice. Or should I say, Aunt Alice? Also known as, the She-Devil (that is, behind her back, of course), by yours truly and by her own son, Emmett. Since I've been raised to be a total gentleman, calling my Aunt like that to her face just wouldn't do, or bode well for my survival. _(Smirk.)_

Though, I've got to fess up, this little She-Devil is, _still_, my favorite aunt. It doesn't matter that she's the _only _Aunt that I have; she would still be my favorite if I had ten other aunts to choose from.

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><p><span><em>...<em>

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><p>It seems that all my life, up to this point, I've been on some sort of exhibition. Apparently, I'm under some kind of spotlight that seems to draw the eyes of everyone within a 360 degree-radius of me, and I do mean <em>everyone<em>. Come to think of it, I believe I heard my momma telling me once that I was kidnapped as a baby, too... Then again, that's a story for another day.

However, it seems that once I hit puberty last year, those stares increased tenfold. I even had to get a restraining order on this seemingly unassuming girl by the name of Mary-something-or-other. It was necessary, especially after she began stalking me and her obsession got the better of her when she tried to _(get this)_ steal my gym shorts after wearing them for gym class. That's just plain disgusting and nasty.

Hopefully the severely disturbed girl is now somewhere far away from my side of the ocean and getting psychiatric help, like I'd suggested to the judge in the process of issuing the restraining order._ (Shudder.) _I'm a realist. I know my sweat stinks just as bad as the next boy, if not worse—I'm athletic and into _M.M.A. _for heaven's sake, it doesn't get more EXTREME than that.

Needless to say, girls like Mary terrify me… _I just can't get them!_

Oh, alright, I get it… I'm cute. Handsome when the occasion calls for it, sexy even, and, my personal favorite, charming (eye roll please)—just to mention a few names I've been labeled with over the course of my young life. Then again, you might already be labeling me with your own 'original' heading and not in need of ammunition... Just, _please_, don't let me catch wind of it! It'll be humiliating for me.

_No, seriously people, find your own new face to ogle at! _

There are some sick people in this world, let me tell you. Honestly, who goes lusting after a boy who turned fourteen years of age only a month ago? Men and women alike, I can feel their depravity oozing off of their bodies whenever their eyes land on me. It rolls off in waves toward me and makes me shudder. Again and again this continues to happen, getting me accustomed to something I have no business getting used to.

(Cue long suffering sigh... _Sigh_.)

_If only I had a dime for every stare… I'm certain I'd be Donald Trump rich, or richer by now. _

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><p><em><span>…<span>_

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><p>As to be expected, here I am, casually minding my own business when out of nowhere I get the strangest sensation, which is now causing my skin to tingle but started from a while ago. <em>My <em>Spidey Senses_ sure are on overdrive today!_ It's as if there's a persistent pair of curious eyes clinging to my every move and trying to dig a hole onto my face in their quest to earn my attention. Still, I desist and refuse to open my eyes to give them the satisfaction of satiating their curiosity, unless prompted.

_Ignore, ignore... there's no need for gore. _The exclusive rule to determine my sanity and survival, which I've turned into a mantra of sorts.

Though I'm beginning to feel slightly uncomfortable by now, to the point of feeling very tempted to open my eyes. Stubbornly, I keep on resisting the urge to do so and persuade myself into believing that I'm overreacting. These sensations are all in my head, a figment of my imagination. In reality there's no one looking at me for longer than a passing fancy.

Shifting position, I try to push the feeling away from my mind. Only, I think I might or might not have heard someone _gasp _in the process and this gives me pause... Frowning slightly, I strain my ears and listen attentively. _Did I just feel someone's body heat just now?_ If so, whoever it is must be _way _too close for comfort.

Mentally shaking my head, I sink deeper into the porous surface of my column with my mind made up to feign ignorance and that's when the unforeseen happens. From one moment to the next I feel a tug—_two,_ to be exact. With my heart in my mouth my eyes flash open and scan my immediate vicinity to find… _(Frown.)_ Well, _no one_. Nonetheless, there's a little, breathless gasp that tells me that I'm not imagining things, though I can't see the one who utters it.

_Invisibility Cloaks are real now…?_ I speculate._ Unlikely. Still, can I have one too?_

Utterly confused by it all, I frown. Again, I'm sure someone just tugged at my shirt or something. I'd been planning on using my best glare on them, too. Pity, really. Chalking it up to my overactive imagination, I'm about to dismiss it all when I feel another tug. This one originating at my jean-clad leg, without a doubt. The tugging sensation slightly more insistent this time around and is followed by a little voice that sounds slightly peeved.

"Down here," my tugging intruder announces.

Instantly curious, I bow my head and my eyes meet with a pair of perfect brown doe eyes, which are set on the pale, heart-shaped face of a little girl. Said girl is staring back up at me indignantly, straight in the eyes. My brows rise in surprise as I note that the little girl still has a tight fistful of my jeans clutched in her small hands.

_So this is the little tugger,_ I reason. Withdrawing from my wall, I notice that my belt buckle is almost _exactly_ eye-level with her._ What a shortie._

"Um…" I scratch the back of my faux hawk, trying to buy time as I fix my aqua gaze on her brown ones once again. "Are you lost, little ma'am?" That's the wrong thing to say, I realize in an instant. As her eyes narrow at me and her mouth turns into the most _adorable_ pout, I bite my lip and try not to laugh.

_Too cute, and adorable, and... Does she come in pocket size, so I can take her home? Sheesh, Jasper, that doesn't sound like something a creep would say. Not. At. All._

"No," she informs me indignantly, crossing her arms over her chest for emphasis. "I know where I am." She drops her hands back to her sides and arches a challenging brow at me.

"Okay…" My lip twitches. She is making it hard for me not to laugh. _Seriously..._ "You do know you shouldn't talk to strangers, though, right?" I hedge, clearing my throat in my attempt to rid myself of the bubbling laughter trying to get free.

_Duh! _Her latest glare seems to say. However, she simply glares up at me and crosses her little arms over her chest once again. If possible, she now looks more affronted than she should be able to look. Considering that she's probably, like, five.

"Where's your momma then?" I ask, most likely against my better judgement.

"She's lost," she informs me with a weary and impatient sigh. That's it! I can't hold it in anymore, I laugh. A barking laugh so loud and belly deep that a few people begin giving me odd and worried looks as they walk by us. In fact, _she _looks worried for me. This kid is too funny! Even then, I can't bring myself to care about how I'm being perceived.

"Are you sure it's not the other way around kid?" I ask between chuckles.

"No! My mommy is the one lost," she scoffs indignantly and a blush spreads across her cheeks as she stomps her little foot in frustration and shows me the funniest little scrunched up face yet. It looks like she's disgusted with me yet again.

"And how's that?" Trying not to lose it, I snort back a laugh.

"Because I know exactly where she's at and where I'm at," she explains gravely and once again, her logic has me laughing. She blushes adorably once again, but a challenge shines bright in her big brown eyes. "Mommy doesn't."

"Well, kid," I clear my throat, "you're something else." I give her that much.

Now that she's blushing like a mad little tomato, I duly note just how flawless and snow-white her skin really is in comparison to her dark hair. Naturally, her paleness highlights the blush on her cheeks and makes it that much more pronounced. As I appreciate that blush, I stare into her brown eyes a beat too long and realize that I can't take my eyes off of her face, waiting to see her blush some more.

"Bella," she mumbles.

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that."

"Not 'kid', my name is Bella," she sighs.

_Cute_. Now she's becoming impatient with me. The prospect of witnessing her impatience makes me ridiculously giddy. _Maybe being at the mall today isn't going to turn out to be such a waste after all._ I muse. _Guess I might as well introduce myself._

"Well, _Bella_, I'm–"

"Prince Charming!" Bella interrupts ecstatically, before I can get as far as telling her my name.

"–Jasper." I gape at her. Blink. Had I heard her wrong? _I have to have heard her wrong, please? _

"Umm…" she hesitates, frowning and looking suddenly unsure. "You mean, Prince Charming Jasper?" She gives me another funny look and it that tells me that she really doesn't like the sound of that, but is still holding hope that I will agree to the ridiculous name she's deluded herself I go by.

_Real question is: Do I have the heart to break it to this kid—to Bella?_

"No, just Jasper?" I say tentatively, though it comes out sounding more like a question. Bella stares at me without blinking and then stares some more, until I feel like squirming.

Boy, this is worse than when I went and told that poor Newton kid that there's no _Santa Claus_. Albeit, that had been an honest mistake I had accidentally run into one evening after having put my foot in my mouth, but still... To this day, I feel so bad that he took it so hard.

Did I mention it happened a week after Thanks Giving Day? That's not all. Do y'all want to know what the worse of all was? His parents didn't blame me in the least, despite the fact that they had to be the ones stuck with Mike's gloomy face for weeks to come, when I got to walk away unscathed. Regardless of the fact that they're my neighbors and been appropriately remorseful, even then I knew I had gotten the better end of the deal.

What can I say? I'm an honest gentleman.

"Prince Jasper?" Bella tries again. The look on her wide-eyed stare a little _too_ hopeful for my liking and I instantly have this distinct urge to take my hand, slap my face with it, drag it down, and then repeat the process. Better than self-mutilation, at least.

"I–" I hesitate, unsure of how to respond. _What is the right thing to say in this kind of situation?_ What's making it worse is the fact that Bella is, well, she's a little ma'am and my mamma has ingrained it in me to be a gentleman through and true. And, now that I think about it, she never _did_ mention any age limitations. _Hmm… (Sigh.)_ _I'll be damned!_ I'll blame it all on my upbringing if I end up with my foot in my mouth again. Evasion it is! "Is there something you wanted to ask me?"

Her smile returns full force, lighting up her face like an energized sunflower. She might just end up combating Aunt Alice for the _Energizer Bunny _title, hmm, and Emmett for the _Comedy Central _award.

"You might not be Prince Charming, though I _swore _you were," Bella rambles on some more, looking at me critically. "But you look _just _like him though, just not your clothes…" I smile uncertainly at her, fidgeting. "–But you will do," Bella finishes triumphantly.

I find myself gaping once again, sirens going off in my head on the background.

"Will do for _what_?" I ask, almost afraid to and aghast.

"My birthday is this Saturday, two days from today," Bella tells me, suddenly looking shy and blushing brighter than before. Most likely, this is to be some joke someone set Bella up to. Suspicious now, my eyes comb the vicinity for any hidden cameras and, or sightings of one Mary-something-or-other.

"_Emmett_…" I whisper darkly under my breath, fully knowing that he is the only other person capable of orchestrating this kind of prank. Just when I start to scan the minimal crowd with narrowed eyes for his familiar face or headful of dark curls, Bella interrupts me.

"I didn't want a party or presents," she tells me offhandedly and my eyes land on hers once again. "But my mommy insisted." She shrugs, looking doubtful. "She said it's important for me to have a birthday party and invite _friends_."

"It is, Bella," I agree, making her blush some more. "How can you _not_ _want_ a party?" I snort. She shrugs, fidgeting. "How old are you going to be?"

"Eight!" she answers brightly, showing me eight fingers exactly, five on one hand and three on the other, after struggling with keeping up the three on her right from turning into four.

"Wow! You're gonna be a big girl, Bella!" I tell her, offering her a high-five and feeling slightly amazed by the fact that she's three years older than I had imagined.

"Bigger," she corrects, giggling, and high-fives me as she stands on her tiptoes.

"So, what's your party theme?" I ask, genuinely curious, and she blushes.

_Hmm… curious, very, very curious…_

"Princess!" It's but a breathless reply, filled with glee.

"Aah…"

"That's why I've been looking for _Prince Charming_, you see," she confides shyly. And I have no idea where she's going with this, but decide to be polite and listen, though alarms are going off in my head in some kind of inexplicable warning. "My mommy and daddy told me I had to find him myself…"

Bella shuffles on her feet as I stare at her and she glances shyly at me from under her eyelashes. For a moment, all I can do is blink and then, blink again. I bet it looks like I have a twitch to anyone looking in. In fact, I'm _positive_ I look like I have a twitch.

"Hmmm… I see." I don't, for the life of me, 'see'. _At all._ Bella smiles a toothy smile, eyes lighting up. _Oh no_, what does _that_ mean? "So you came here to find him?" I venture… Suddenly, it's like my words give me some _illumination_. But it can't be… _can it?_

She nods, "And found you."

Oh… _Ding, ding, ding! Oh, hell no._

"And what are you going to do, now that you found your _Prince Charming_?" I ask, bordering on grudgingly, and attempt to rule myself in, not willing to show Bella the panic building within.

"Nothing," she says simply, looking shy all over again for the world to see. I arch a brow at her, that little blush is so not making me believe a word of it. "I just wanted to let _Prince Charming_ know that… t-there's gonna be a ball… maybe then," –She shrugs– "you know… he'll dance with me on my birthday."

Now Bella is furiously blushing and not looking at me as she fidgets where she stands. Which is rather convenient for me, because my mouth is hanging open in my state of _utter _disbelieve. She _has_ to be pulling my leg. She just _has _to. I _refuse_ to believe otherwise.

Again, I find myself scanning the vicinity for any sightings of either Emmett or Mary-something-or-other and come up short yet again. By this point I can only assume that this is all this shortie's doing, apparently. What did they feed kids these days, faerie tale droppings to rot the young mind for breakfast, lunch, _and _dinner?

"Ahem," I clear my throat repeatedly, feeling as if my Adam's apple is painfully bobbing against sandpaper, instead of my esophagus. "Is that what you want, Bella, for" –_I can't believe I'm about to say this_– "Prince Jasper to ask you to dance at your ball?"

She nods vigorously, still not looking at me and with that damnable and innocent blush still flushing her cheeks another notch. Kneeling before Bella, I sigh and get all 'Real-Life-_Knight-in-Shining-Armor_' on her—minus the shining armor, obviously—of my own free will.

_Not like I really have a choice now, do I?_ With her looking all shy and hopeful. When it comes to pleasing others and meeting their expectations, I'm everyone's got to guy. I'm a natural sucker for people pleasing. As you can imagine, this little ma'am's matter is no different. Again, I can't believe I'm doing this…

"Then, don't you think you need to send Prince Jasper an invitation?"

Bella lifts her head up, lightning quick, eyes huge as she braves meeting my eyes and stares at me with those damnable puppy dog eyes swimming in disbelief. That look that tells me that she almost hadn't _dared _to hope and it completely disarms me. The longer Bella stares at me with those huge brown saucer-like eyes of her, now shining with mirth, and says nothing, the more I begin to feel like an idiot for kneeling in front a seven-year-old girl.

"Really?" Bella asks, voice full of wonder, and clasps her hands tightly in front of her, finally finding her vocal chords.

"Really, really," I assert and hope that the awkward smile I've plastered on my face will convince her enough, if my words fail to do so. Meanwhile, I am mentally slamming my head into a concrete wall, repeatedly, until I succeed in giving myself a concussion.

Bella squeals, momentarily deafening me, and starts to move. Next thing I know, she unexpectedly jumps at me, thrusting herself into my arms, and wraps her little arms around my neck with so much force that we nearly topple over at her added weight. But thankfully, the column catches us and in the flurry I somehow manage to brace a hand against it to steady us. "Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…" she says, over and over again, hugging me tightly.

"_Prince_ Jasper can't breathe," I say chuckling. I was getting a little worried, since we were starting to attract an audience. I couldn't have that. No one would believe for one second that she was the one who approached me and not the other way around. "And can you please stop with the squealing?" The last thing I need is to be labeled a _perv_ or something. "People might think I'm kidnapping you, when clearly, you are the danger here."

Bella giggles and lets me go, causing me to grace her with my signature tilted smile. In spite of myself, I'm happy that she's happy and that I'm the one that got to put that extra shine in her big, dark eyes. It's infectious, almost viral. Besides, this _is_ the egotistic side of me shining through, the part of me that always wants to please and help others. I can't help it.

"Where can I send your invitation?" she asks me. I groan, low enough for her not to hear me. She is serious about this, I realize, feeling a slight current of panic rising from my gut up. Only the realization that I'm a willing victim makes me open my mouth.

"You have a notebook and pencil in that little backpack of yours?" I ask, noting her purple backpack for the first time. Her long brown hair must have covered the straps from view until now, I assume.

"I do," she nods eagerly. Removing her backpack, Bella holds it out between us as if she has every intention of handing it over to me.

Strangely enough (as if this whole afternoon isn't strange enough already), I recognize it as being a _Dora the Explorer _merchandise. Not taking it, I stare at the backpack for a beat too long and she takes the liberty of placing it in my hand anyway. On closer inspection, I see that Bella's backpack has eyes and a smiling mouth with a side pocket holding something that also has eyes and a mouth—something that might be a fake map, I think.

"No, way," I refuse. "A man _never _puts his hands into a ma'am or little ma'am's bag or purse. Much less, if he values his life," I inform Bella, watching her pout and hand it back to her. "I value my life, thank you very much."

"You're funny." She giggles at that, understanding, and begins rummaging in her backpack for pen and paper. At the rate she's going, chances are I wouldn't have found it anyway.

"Besides, my momma's raised me to be a gentleman," I inform her. "And I've learned my lesson." I have tales aplenty from my much daring and naïve days that have left their marks behind, to know that I don't want any repeats.

"Here!" Bella announces triumphantly as she straightens up and extends her arms, holding a notebook and a pen in each hand for me to take. As she hands over her purple notebook with the word '_Princess'_ bedazzled into the front cover and a pink-feathered pencil and contemplate not taking the proffered items, I find myself wishing I had my own black and normal _Paper Mate _pen at hand.

"Thank you," I say, regardless. Taking them from Bella's outstretched hands, I open up the notebook to a blank page and write down my full name, address, and home number in purple lead. "Give that to your mamma and poppa and have them call me," I instruct as I hand Bella her things back.

"Okay," she chirps, joy, rainbows, and butterflies radiating and repelling off of her with bursts of sunlight as she takes her pen and notebook, stuffing it back in her backpack.

_I think I might gag and get sick…_

"Bella, no. Listen, I'm serious," I tell her, insistent, trying to drive it home. "If they don't call me, I won't go." She pouts adorably, wrinkling her thin, delicate nose. "Promise?"

"Promise!" she vows, practically singing the word. That will have to do for now.

"You've troubled me enough for one day now," I tease and she has the decency to look abashed. I can only smile at that. And in a more pleasant tone, add, "Run along now, or do you need help finding your lost mamma?"

The woman must be running around the mall like crazy by now trying to find her daughter, I figure. Looking at my watch, I note that we have been talking for a good fifteen minutes, tops.

"No thank you," Bella declines politely, much to my surprise. "I should ask security to page her though. She might have gone on the move…" Bella ponders and I bite back a laugh, she sounds like the parent here. "I've done it before, you know," she adds, eyeing my warily, as if she knows I still doubt her, and I gape at her once again, shaking my head.

_What kind of momma does she have?_ Without realizing it, I'm beginning to worry for this funny and sweet girl's future. Shaking my head, I remind myself that it's none of my concern.

"Okay. I believe you. _Goodbye_, Bella," I bid with a chuckle. "Nice meeting you." And I mean it, even if I think this is going to be the last time I see her. Surely, her parents wouldn't be crazy enough to listen to their seven-year-old daughter's whims and invite a total stranger to her party? Even if she is a total brat about it, which I honestly can't picture Bella being. So, I'm sure her parents will have enough common sense to not invite a total stranger over.

"Bye Prince Jasper!" she bids in turn. Skipping away, presumably, Bella heads towards the security booth with her backpack bouncing on her back as she goes. I stare after her in wonder. Bella really _is_ going to ask them to page her mother. Shaking my head, unable to wipe the incredulous smile off my face, my smile widens when Bella turns around just a short distance ahead with a hand in the air and waves at me, saying, "See you at my party!"

Trying not to chuckle aloud, I wave back at her. One last wave and Bella is out of sight and earshot, just not out of mind. I don't think I could ever forget this charming little encounter. I'd probably look back in years to come, remember it, and still laugh about today.

"What was that all about?" I hear someone ask me and stiffen. "Where's the party at?"

Turning in the direction of the voice, I relax once I realize that it's only Emmett, which is a danger in and of its own, since he's my age _and_ my cousin, and my Aunt Alice's son to boot.

"And, more importantly, am _I _invited?" He arches a brow at me, while a malicious smile makes an appearance and instantly dominates his mouth, asking, "_Prince_ Jasper?"

I groan. He is _never_ going to let me live this down, for as long as either of us lives. And considering we are family, well, the chances of us never speaking again in the near future to safe face are very, _very _slim. I wave goodbye to my intact and dent free reputation, until today, sad to see it slip away from my fingertips at such a young and tragic age.

_(Sigh_._)_ Please, people, do try to remember, I still don't do melodrama. No, _honestly_, I don't. Oh, don't give me that dubious look... Okay, so I don't sound very convincing right now, so what? I'm still _all _about the _action_!

"Honestly, I don't know, Emm," I admit, feeling slightly dejected. I shall welcome my miserable fate like a man, dammit. "But I think I just got hit on by a seven year old…"

"What are you talking about, man?" Emmett booms jovially with barely sustained laughter, draping an arm over my shoulders. Leaning in conspiratorially, he whispers, "Should I be worried?"

I roll my eyes. Like Emmett ever worries about anything _but_ food. Even while he's gorging down food like there's no tomorrow, he's still worrying about what he's gonna eat three to four hours from then. Not that I'm any better… but I, at least until next meal period, only focus on the food that's right before me. Which reminds me...

"By any chance, Emmett," –Glancing sideways at Emmett, my eyes turn to slits as I glare at him with suspicion.— "you didn't have anything to do with that, now, did you?" Emmett shakes his head and lifts his hands up in silent surrender. "Never mind…" I sigh.

"Yeah, I'm worried," is his only response, at first. "What has become of my cuz?" He grins at me, flashing dimples and all, with no true concern for my well-being shining through. "Why must he blame the all innocent _moi_?"

"Oh, shut up, Emmett!" I huff. Leave it to my cousin and best friend to find something entertaining in my agony. Don't get me wrong, he's a great guy and all, awesome to talk to when you're in a bind and the occasion calls for it, but he sure can be a hell of a goofball most of the time. But once he's given ammunition, like this one, all hell _might _just get loose. I'm already dreading it…

"Come on, J.H., I _just _got here and–"

Suddenly, the AP overhead whines and shrills, interrupting Emmett, and the two of us glance up at the speakers curiously. Not a moment later, a very clinical sounding voice begins to speak in a monotone, saying:

"RENEE SWAN, PLEASE, COME MEET YOUR DAUGHTER, BELLA SWAN, BY THE SECURITY BOOTH. AGAIN, RENEE SWAN, PLEASE, COME MEET YOUR DAUGHTER, BELLA SWAN, BY THE SECURITY BOOTH."

A moment of silence and static… and then, I'm chortling uncontrollably. Bella's really done it! Now, I'm laughing so hard that Emmett who, by now, thinks I've lost it for real startles and is genuinely looking at me with concern. _Now _he decides to show his concern.

"Um…" He says, "You know how I hate to point of the obvious, cuz, but there's something seriously wrong with you." Pause. "You should, like, get checked out or some–"

Quicker than Emmett can react, I loop an arm over his shoulders to forcibly bring him down to my level and nudge his headful of curls with my left fist. Profanities tumbling like rapid-fire from his lips, Emmett struggles to get out from under my arm as I headlock him—_what a shock, I know—_and tries to do the same to me in turn, which leads to some playful wrestling and disruption of the peace that earns us a wide berth. Boys will be boys, right?

"What's the matter, cuz?" I tease, pausing to catch my breath but not relenting my hold on Emmett. She really did it! Catching movement on the second floor, I glance up and let Emmett up.

"What's going on?" Emmett asks, knowing that I never let him off so easily. Following my gaze, he sees what I see but doesn't connect the dots as I do.

"There she goes…" A woman who could only be Bella's mother is leaving _GUCCI_, scurrying down the fountain stairs to answer the summons and meet up with her daughter. From where I'm standing she seems to have a similar hair color to Bella's, only her daughter's might be a shade darker, shinier, and wavier, I note fleetingly—seeing as I can only see part of this woman's retreating form, but I'm willing to bet that that's where the resemblance stops.

"Ah!" Emmett exclaims, smirking. "The woman security just paged?"

"Duh!" I punch him playfully, rolling my eyes.

"What's that for?!"

"Baby."

"Well, Your _Majesty_, excuse me for being so sensible," he retorts.

"That's _Prince _Jasper to you," I scowl, which only sends us into fits of laughter.

On second thought, maybe I _could_ look forward to being this little girl's _Prince Charming_ for a day after all.


	2. Prince Charming On Call

_**Once Upon a Time; **_

On second thought, maybe I _could_ look forward to being this little girl's _Prince Charming_ for a day after all.

* * *

><p><em><strong><span>…<span>**_

_**…**_

* * *

><p><strong>SCOUTING FOR PRINCE CHARMING<strong>

_BY_

_AMATERASU KINESI_

* * *

><p><em><strong>Tale<strong>__** II:**_

_Prince Charming On Call _

* * *

><p><span><em>…<em>

* * *

><p><strong>Jasper's POV<strong>

_…_

**_~Thursday, September 11~_**

_…_

Ever heard of something called the art of procrastination? Well, let me tell you, I, Jasper Hadrian Whitlock, am the _Jedi _Master in the subtle, and not so subtle, art of procrastination.

It's early evening on a glorious Friday and I'm, typically, in my somewhat chaotic room. To be more specific, I'm sitting comfortably in an office chair before a battalion of schoolbooks adorning almost every conceivable surface and corner of my desk in mid yawn. What, did y'all think I was actually studying? Trust me, there's no way I'm _planning_ on actually cracking a schoolbook open and studying any time soon. The horde has its purpose, providing me with a means of escape.

Regardless of the fact that I mainly use my school books for the sake of appearances, they do serve another purpose—making me _look_ like I am studying. This is a necessary measure I take, in case my momma decides to pop her great blonde head, big curls and all, through my door. She often checks in on me unannounced, under the guise of bringing me a snack to help stimulate my deteriorating brain cells and keep me nourished.

Needless to say, Momma never knocks. Give a guy a warning, you know? It is a downright grievance at times. Anyway, I'm in the process of clearing a space on my desk to prop up my feet and truly get comfortable for a nap, which is proving to be quite a _Jenga_ challenge. Upon creating little mountains of cluster and opening up just the right amount of space upon my desktop, I finally have enough legroom to prop my feet up and get comfy.

Feet now propped on the desk's ledge, I cross them at the ankles and grab a book for good measure. Cracking the book open in the middle, I lean back on my chair, and balance the book like a tent over my nose, casting my entire face into blissful shadow. (Or the spine might have creaked in the process, whichever is preferable. Just pointing out the lack of use the book got at my hands. A moth or two might have fluttered out even, though I wasn't really paying attention.)

_This is the life… Even if it smells funny._

You see, I'm sort of an insomniac. Which is exactly why, during the brief instances when sleep pays me a visit and my eyes do grow heavy, like now, I tend to oblige and take a nap for as long as sleep might take me under! Treasuring the respite unconsciousness offers is one of my favorite pastimes, since the chance to do so doesn't come by me as easily as it does for others.

Napping makes me not moody. As a result, if I may say so, lack of moodiness makes me a very happy and amiable Jasper to be around, and that's a good thing for anyone who might get caught in the crossfire of a temperamental me. As of right now I'm running on three hours of sleep, feeling irritable, and well on my way to being moody since school let out, so I dearly need this nap!

Though, it so happens that my plan is interjected while I'm in the process of wiggling my scrawny little ass further into my yielding desk chair and getting all comfy to snore the rest of my evening away, by none other than my very own momma.

"Jasper Hadrian Whitlock!" My momma's shout reaches me from downstairs as she continues on, saying, "Get yourself down here this instant!"

"Wha–" Coming to I exclaim, consequently hitting the floor hard with a startled groan.

"Everything okay up there?" My momma's concerned voice inquires.

"Yes, Momma!" I call back, sighing and rising to my feet, all the while nursing my sore buttocks. There will be no Jazz-nap today, I sadly realize. "Comin'!"

"Just try and make it down here _today_," Momma emphasizes, "please!"

"I'll be right there!"

Thinking I've been caught red-handed in my, almost, ninja-like art of procrastination, I proceed with caution. All the while trying not to look like a dog with its tail between its legs. My momma is what I consider a 'busybody' and she gets on my case for just about _everything_. Do y'all know, she still reminds me to take a shower, like, every day?

Wait… maybe I shouldn't _really _be complaining about that one… it comes in handy at times. Okay, so I'll be honest with y'all and myself. Often you'll find that, since I'm a growing young man with nothing but a black hole for a stomach and thoughts of food running rampant around my head twenty-four seven, I can sometimes forget that I have to shower, _every damned day_— really, it just happens. Don't ask me how, but it does.

_No drama but…_

Oh, the woes of being a young man!

* * *

><p><span><em>…<em>

* * *

><p>Ascending the stairs at a snail's pace, I catch sight of my mother's head-full of blonde curls and brace myself for a tongue lashing. Taking a breath, I take the last step and muse, <em>here goes nothing<em>...

"Yes, Rosalie?" I jokingly sneer. Crossing my fingers behind my back, I bite my lip and hope that my cheeky disposition will see me through the worse of whatever is to come. With wide eyes, I watch as my momma's hand whips through the air like a fast moving white cobra, coming my way, and know that I won't be able to react in time to avoid the moment of doom.

"Momma!" I exclaim in protest as her palm makes contact with the back of my head. As Momma fixes me with her blue, yellow gaze, I try to avoid groveling and instead turn my efforts into nursing the tender spot she just slapped, pouting for sympathy.

"Don't you 'Momma' me!" She warns and gives me a stern look, which I can't avoid and is devoid of empathy. "You deserved it," she justifies.

In answer, I nod. Like always, this particular look of hers renders me to this meek version of my usual suave self. Making me want to cower and beg her for leniency. _Parley? _Very manly of me, I know. But hell hath no fury like a momma scorned.

_What? Y'all are saying that's not how the saying goes? Well, I could have sworn…_

"The nerve of you, addressin' your momma like that…" Momma scuffs, eying me in a way that makes me fidget like I'm five again. "You honestly thought you could get away with it?"

"I'm not sure," I mutter and shrug, grimacing slightly with embarrassment.

"Unbelievable." An unnerving pause ensues. I fidget. She adds, "You have another thing comin', young man, if you still think you can talk to me like that and live to tell the tale." By now, I feel like my momma's towering way over me and I'm ten sizes too small. "I do think I've raised you better than that…"

Basically I have no choice but to nip this at the bod and interrupt whatever words may come next, before Momma gets to the part where she decides on whether or not she'll ground me for the greater part of my yet unlived life. Better to be safe than sorry, I always say.

"No, ma'am. Sorry," I say apologetically, pouting some more, and effectively interrupting my momma's ranting before it gets the better of her. Momma's eyes soften then, and I offer her a tentative smile, silently asking if all is forgiven.

"As long as you don't forget your manners and who your momma is the next time you try to get cheeky with me," Momma warns, "I think I can overlook it this once."

"I won't," I promise. And I'm forgiven. Just. Like. That. My momma is the _BEST_,seriously_._ There is no shame in my being a momma's boy, as far as I'm concerned. So long as nobody's looking and no one finds out it's a no harm no foul free for all. Not that I would really care, I think everyone knows by now how much of a big Momma's Boy I am. And at this point in my life, I don't think they care.

Then again, the guys find it too much of an embarrassing subject to approach and leave it alone. On the other hand, the girls just think that being as close as I am to my momma adds to my appeal, which in turns makes me all that more _Charming _in their eyes. Girls befuddle me. Actually, no, they plain out scare the living daylights out of me. I just don't get them. Being raised by a woman who is just as scary as any other girl, but less of a mystery in some ways at least, doesn't offer me any enlightening insight into solving the mysteries of the female mind.

"Good."

"Does this mean I'm still your number one man?" I tease, hugging Momma tight as she chuckles.

"Of course you are." She eyes me suspiciously.

"What?" I ask self-consciously. _Yup, I've been caught._ _For sure. _Or so I thought…

"What did you do?"

Momma's words throw me off and she has this look in her eyes, the one that promises a world of pain once she finds out what she needs to nail me to the cross, no matter the means. When she does figure it out, and she will, she'll be ruthless to a fault. But I'm not too worried.

Still, I bet she's got a plan of execution in which she'll have full use of the arsenal of tricks she has up her sleeve, since she wants to make me confess. But no matter, right now I'm feeling pretty stubborn, which entitles me to pretty tight lips. There's no way I'm going to spill any beans that don't need to be spilled and rat myself out.

_And so the guessing game begins…_

"Nothing?" I shrug, trying to thinking of anything I might have done that she could possibly find out about and come up with nothing. Surprisingly, I've been a picture perfect angel this week… So many things cross through my mind, but nothing stands out. Maybe she took a look under my bed and finally found the burnt, moldy half-eaten grilled cheese that I have yet to trash? I just keep forgetting to toss it, though. This happens at least thrice a week, which is three times too many that I have to feed and fend for myself. I can't cook to safe my life, if y'all hadn't figured that one out.

"Are you sure?" she presses as I continue to think.

Unless it was something I had done _last _week? Now that I think about it, thanks to Emmett, I had been a little devil last week and gotten myself into a bit of trouble alongside him. _Okay_, I give! It wasn't anything I didn't want to do. After little convincing and cajoling, I did end up become his willingly accomplice… And so we ended up playing a few pranks too many and got ourselves a day's worth of detention.

However, thinking back on it, none of the things we'd done were noteworthy enough to make it onto the _St. Cullen_ student rumor mill and out to the streets of Phoenix for all the gossipy mother's with nothing to do but run their mouths could keep the retelling alive, which would only then suffice to explain how my marauding ways even reached my momma's ears at the garage.

_You can press for more info all you want, Momma, but my lips are sealed._

"Yeah," I shrug again, showing her that I have no idea what she's getting at with the indifference of my action. Unless she's willing to provide me with some details and hard proof evidence, I have the right to remain silent.

"Is that so?" We've been through this before, many times. I've seen her play both the bad and good cop way too many times now to expose anything she might or might not already know anything about, or give in without putting up a good fight. Until I've gathered enough Intel, it's best to keep my trap shut. I have rights, y' know? "Then how come the Phoenix Chief of Police is ringing our phone?"

_BOOM! _Goes the dynamite—more like _atomic bomb_…

_Did she seriously just say that the Phoenix Chief of Police is on the phone? _

"I don't know," I whisper, freaking out! I chalk. Wait, maybe all my smoke and stink bombs at school are finally catching up to me? Would the school even do something like call the cops on a prankster? I sure hope not. I'll kill Emmett myself if that's the case. _Then_, I'll really have something worthy of being thrown into juvie for.

"Jasper," she sighs, "I really hope you're being honest with me." I nod mechanically. "Good." Momma gives me a searching look, accepting the truth and sincerity I hope I'm exuding. "You know how I feel about surprises, right?"

"Yes, ma'am," I mumble.

"Go on then," Momma urges. Pushing me in the direction of the kitchen and seeing the obvious question in my eyes, she adds, "He's still holding on the other line" –I stop walking, practically stumbling over my feet as Momma confirms my fears– "and wants to have a word with you."

"No, Momma, please," I plead, shaking my head in horror and outright refusal. "Why can't _you_ talk to him?"

"Because the Chief specifically asked to speak with you," she tells me, matter of fact. "Now, find those manners that I know you have ingrained somewhere up in that brain of yours, because I taught them to you, and go pick up that phone."

"B-but…"

"_Right_. _Now_," she insists. Pressing a firm palm to my back, Mamma pushes me onward in the direction of the kitchen once again. How come my momma's betraying me now, when I need her? Whatever happened to all that nonsense that people always says in this situations, the whole 'blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh' and 'through thin and thick' thing… isn't that how it's supposed to be between mother and son? Not according to my mother, apparently.

"But, did he at least say what he wanted with me?" I ask, grasping at straws, and stubbornly dig the backs of my heels into the carpet in my feeble attempt to delay the inevitable.

"Nope!" She practically sings. I scowl. Then she proceeds to unceremoniously slap my ass for emphasis, ordering, "Move it, Whitlock!"

"I'm goin', I'm goin'!" At this point, trying to protest is pointless.

"Common," she chuckles, "pick up those feet, young man!"

"Traitor…" I grumble under my breath.

"What was that?" There goes that arched brow…

_I can't believe she's enjoying this!_

"Nothing!" I 'pick up' my feet and walk a little faster than a snail…

"That's what I thought." I roll my eyes, thankful that my back's to her. "It's impolite to keep people waiting," Momma reminds me. "Especially when they've gone through the trouble of callin' on you."

"Yes ma'am."

"That's a good boy," Momma teases. I sigh. I know when I've lost both the war and the battle. Today just so happens to be one of those days. Momma: 1, Jasper: 0.

Feeling like my world is about to come to an end and that my legs are made of lead, I pick up the phone hesitantly. _God, my hands are sweaty, profusely so. _Another breath for courage and I press the hold button to get the Chief off hold.

"Yea'llo?" I pray that's respectful enough a greeting and glance over at my momma for approval. Amused, she nods, smiles brazenly, walks up to me, and ruffles the top of my faux hawk fade into an even messier mess than usual.

"Good evening young man." Comes the gruff reply on the other end of the line and I'm slightly distracted trying to fend off Momma. "I am the Phoenix Chief of Police," the Chief informs me, clearing his throat just as I scowl and bat Momma's hand away. However, she only sticks her tongue out at me and takes my impudence as invitation to nudge my head instead. "Name's Charlie Swan but you can call me Sir."

_Very mature, Momma,_ I think sourly and give her the stink eye, shooing her away. Ignoring me, Momma takes a seat at the head of the dining table. At least she's behaving now. _Still, _I vow_, __I'll get back at you for this. Just you wait…_

"Jasper Hadrian Whitlock at your service," I reply and nervously add, "Sir?"

* * *

><p><strong><span>…<span>**

* * *

><p><strong>Chief Charlie Swan's POV<strong>

_…_

**_~Thursday, September 11~_**

_…_

"Well, Renée, I looked into that boy's file," I tell my ex-wife, feeling none too happy about my findings.

"Charles Swan, you didn't!" Renée gasps.

"That's Chief Swan to you," I sputter, feeling my cheeks warm to a ruddy flush. I feel a twinge of guilt, just not enough to make me regret my decision to have the boy investigated. "I did too. It was necessary, Renée."

"Oh, I'm sure it was…" she retorts sarcastically and taking a seat makes herself at home.

"This is my daughter we are talking about here," I try justifying, shooting daggers at Renée. "I needed to make sure that this boy wasn't some kind of creep that approached my little girl with every intention of taking advantage of her and started putting all these ideas in her head."

"She's my daughter too, you know?" Renée protests, completely dismissing all the dangers I just pointed out to her.

"_Our _daughter," I amend, pacing.

"And _our_ daughter said she was the one to approach him, Charles Swan," Renée makes a point of reminding me.

"I'm sure," I scoff. "How much do you want to bet that he asked her to tell us that?"

"If you say so, Charlie," Renée sighs, condescendingly. She's done disputing this with me. "And what did you find in his records?"

"Nothing," I admit begrudgingly. This is a challenge she's throwing at me and it rubs me the wrong way, but I am determined to remain unaffected. She stares at me, waiting for something else that I might add. I don't.

"What then?" She proceeds to ask, "Is he one of the most wanted pedophiles you've been assigning your deputies to be on the lookout for lately?"

"No, he's not a pedophile. He's clean," I sigh. "Just a regular boy after all." Much to my unsatisfied and undeniable chagrin, and it did not help that his merits just kept getting better.

"Of course he is. The way Bella tells it, he sounds very kind." I roll my eyes but say nothing, silently fuming. "What else?"

"The boy just turned fourteen, in fact, less than a month ago."

"_And_?" she presses.

"_And _he's currently on scholarship at_ St. Cullen's_, attending his first year of high school," I inform her reluctantly.

"_St. Cullen_?" Renée frowns thoughtfully, trying to recall where she'd heard the name before. "You mean that private preparatory school with a college entrance level? The one James and Charlotte attend?"

"The very same," I confirm.

"Well, what do you know?" Renée looks pensive as she says, "Looks like he's a smart one then."

"Top of the crop smart, apparently." Honestly, did he have to be a _kid _and be _smart _too? Top ten of his class smart? "Also, he has no criminal record to speak of." _Yet_, I add and remind myself mentally.

"All that trouble for nothing…" Renée tells me, glancing sideways at me.

"I needed my piece of mind," I explain again and she clicks her tongue at me. I hate it when she does that. It's like she's belittling me, or something.

"You know, Charlie, Bella thinks he's _Prince Charming_." Renée's smiling and giggling like a schoolgirl, so very amused. "Did she tell you? She _swears_ he is."

"Yeah," I say, feeling bemused. Watching Renée being like this, I have a flashback of the past to when our world was still right, she was mine, and we were happy with Bella on the way. "Thanks to all those faerie tales you fill her head with."

Renée looks at me and catching my eye, winks at me. She knows me well enough to know that there's no real scorn behind my words. I scoff at her, feeling embarrassed by how well she still knows me. It irritates me slightly that being around her like this makes me yearn for the past. Because that can only mean she still has a hold on me, just like Sue's been telling me lately.

"It's healthy for a growing young girl to believe she's a princess, Charlie," Renée refutes quietly, pleasantly, and with a charming smile, showing me a glimpse of the woman I once fell in love with. "It builds up her self-esteem."

"I'll say…" I sigh, straying away from those thoughts. It's been nearly four years now since our divorce, but we still keep in contact and see each other on a biweekly basis for the sake of our only daughter. Only for Bella's sake. The only thing the two of us can ever agree on is that we want our daughter to have as much of a stable family interaction as possible, considering our situation.

"Right?" she chuckles. "Approaching an older boy and asking him to show up to her birthday party as none other than _Prince Charming_!" Again, Renée giggles and her face glows, jovial and seemingly juvenile. "I wonder, what exactly did she say to him to make him agree to even contemplate the idea?"

"I don't know… And you are so proud of her…" I grumble on unintelligibly. Unsure of how I should feel, but knowing that I felt nothing but concern for my only daughter. Even if her mother doesn't, I know I need to protect our Bella. Maybe the best thing for my daughter is not to be with her mother… she's too volatile. Surely that's not the kind of environment a young girl should be growing up in? Shaking my head, I try to dismiss the thought and try to focus on my ex-wife once again.

_Another time…_

"I wonder…" Renée trails off with that mysterious sparkle that I once adored shining in her eyes. I shake my head, I know that look and it means trouble. She's probably planning another one of her ploys. "He must be terribly handsome for her to proclaim him to be some _Prince Charming_, don't you think?

"Renée!" I groan in protest, cheeks flaming. The woman still has no boundaries, still so shameless!

"Oh, posh, Charles, don't be such a whiner," Renée shushes, making me sputter. "But honestly, what are you going to do?" She turns her gaze on me once again and her eyes, for a change, are serious. "Bella really wants this "_Prince" _Jasper to be her _Prince Charming _for her birthday."

"Trust me, I know." _No need to remind me, that's why we're even having this conversation!_ "Honestly, I don't know Renée," I sigh.

"It's just, she looked pretty determined about it too…" Renée grimaces sympathetically.

"She's always determined, our little girl." I can't help but chuckle. "I just don't feel comfortable inviting a total stranger into our home."

"Think you can disappoint her like that?" she asks softly, motioning for me to stop my pacing and take a seat before I make her dizzy with my worrying.

"I really don't want to disappoint our little girl," I admit. Sighing again, I sink onto the sofa opposite her. "She's never asked for anything before, so we don't have any kind of reference for handling this. I, for one, don't know how to say no to her." I look to Renée then and notice her watching me intently and thinking, brows knitted in concentration. "What do you suggest? She is your daughter too."

"Of course she is." She smiles mischievously. "Where's that piece of stationary paper she gave us, the one with all his contact information written down?"

"I was afraid you would say that." _And wondering why you hadn't brought it up._

"Hand it over, Chief," Renée orders, flexing her fingers at me, palm up.

I grumble unhappily, all the while reluctantly searching my pockets for my wallet. Look inside, I find the piece of paper and hand it over. "Do you honestly think inviting someone we don't know anything about to our daughter's eighth birthday is a good idea, Renée?"

"No, I don't," Renée admits with a devil-may-care shrug. "But I do know we're going to have our hands full tomorrow with the birthday party. We'll have a lot to deal with, what with all those screaming, running, and jumping kids to look after," she reasons, "Let's not add our daughter's unhappiness to the equation here. Dealing with a very disappointed eight year-old on her birthday is not the way to make it memorable for her."

"You are right," I acknowledge. "I want to protect her but I can't shelter her forever…"

"Besides, we have enough information about him to know that at least he's still a child and hasn't committed any criminal offenses, _yet_," –Renée smirks at me as she says this, but her words are delicate– "all thanks to her great daddy, the Phoenix Chief of Police, and his handy background checking accessibility."

"Okay, let's invite him over," I give. "I still have my gun if he tries anything funny on my baby girl."

"Now hold your horses Chief," Renée chuckles. "Call first and save the evil backup planning for later. And if it serves as any consolation, be happy that you are agreeing to this. I was going to let you be the one to tell Bella why her _Prince Charming _couldn't come to her ball."

"Oh, how magnanimous of you," I say sarcastically. "Thank you."

"No need to thank me yet, Charlie. I just didn't want you to be at the end of her 'I hate you Daddy!' so early on in the game…" she says airily. "You've got at least another seven years before we get to cross that bridge."

"Yeah, we want to avoid that," I grumble. Just the thought of my own daughter telling me she hates me has me cringing. _I hope that day never comes,_ I pray. "Why don't you go pick up Bella?" I suggest forcefully.

"How come?" She fixes me with _the _eye. My hands go up in surrender.

"Hear me out now, Renée," I pacify, "before you go jumping to conclusions here…"

"Go on, I'm listening..." Pitter-patter go her nails on the arm rest, a sure sign that she is impatiently waiting to chew me out if my response is unsatisfactory.

I gulp.

"What I was trying to say is, while you pick Bella up from school, I'll call the kid and then later fill you in as to how it goes," I explain carefully. "There. Satisfied now?"

"Perhaps." Still, she fixes me with a suspicious glare before standing, gathering her purse and keys, and making her way to the front door with a final warning. "You better be telling the truth, Charles Swan, or _else_, you'll be dealing with Bella's tantrum all by yourself tomorrow, no matter how much you beg me to take over."

"I promise." I nod, finding her terms reasonable enough. "Cross my heart and hope to die and all that nonsense." I smile innocently.

"Good," Renée says, satisfied.

"Good," I agree with a feeble smile.

One last warning glare and she closes the door behind her, leaving me with the heinous task I do not want to follow through with. My conscience reminds me that I'd _promised _and that I'm doing this for my precious Bella. With another frustrated sigh, I run a frantic hand through my hair, pick up the phone, glance at the phone number scribbled on the piece of paper, and dial the boy's home number.

_Here goes nothing…_

With bated breath I wait and listen: one _ring_, two _rings_, three _rings, _and–

"Hello, Whitlock-Hale residence, Rosalie speakin'," A young sounding female voice greets in a singsong manner, with a hint of a barely there Southern drawl.

"Good evening Madam," I greet and clear my throat. "Sorry for disturbing you but my name's Charlie Swan and I'm the Phoenix Chief of Police."

"Good evenin', Chief Swan," Rosalie greets back, pleasant enough. "It's no trouble at all. How can I help you this fine evenin' sir?" She asks cautiously, guarded.

"I was wondering if there is anyone by the name of," I glance at the boy's name scribbled on the paper and read, "Jasper Whitlock at your residence?"

"That would be my son," Rosalie answers hesitantly. I'm surprised, she sounds very young, at least on the phone.

"May I please have a word with him?" I ask and I'm met with silence. "Mrs. Whitlock?"

"Miss Hale," Rosalie corrects. This remark momentarily confuses me and I guess Mrs. Whitlock understands because she clarifies, saying, "It's Miss Hale, not Mrs. Whitlock, Chief Swan."

"My apologies, Miss Hale," I readily correct.

"Easy mistake, it's not a problem," Miss Hale answers dismissively. "Now, I need to ask, is my son in any trouble?" _Ah_… now I understand. I smile; making people nervous comes in handy sometimes. "He's never been in any kind of trouble before, I make sure of that, and I've raised him better than that but–"

"No, no, Miss Hale," I assure her, interrupting her ranting. I'm a little disappointed though, seems like his own mother is labeling him a 'good boy'.

"Oh, good," She sighs and chuckles with relief. "For a moment there, you had me scared to death! He's a very good kid, y' know? And apart from the practical jokes that every teenage boy pulls, he's an angel," Miss Hale boasts, like the proud mother she seems to be. "So I was about to tell you as much and point out that maybe, probably, you had the wrong Jasper. But then again, his name is not that common these days..." Rosalie rambles on, relieved.

"My apologies, once again, Miss Hale." I chuckle with her.

"No, no, not at all," Miss Hale assures me. "Let me call him down for you."

"I would appreciate that."

"Hold one moment, please," Miss Hale says and excuses herself. I hear a definite _beep _at the other end of the line that tells me Miss Hale has put me on hold and I wait. About ten minutes pass before there's any sound on the other line and following another _beep_ I hear a hesitant voice on the other end of the receiver speak up.

"Yea'llo," The voice nervously greets with a minimal hint of that same drawl in which Miss Hale spoke ebbing through in his nervousness. It sounds young and masculine, probably still going through puberty changes.

"Good evening young man," I reply gruffly. "I am the Phoenix Chief of Police. Name's Charlie Swan but you can call me Sir."

"Jasper Hadrian Whitlock at your service," the boy replies and nervously. I chuckle silently as, after an uncertain pause, Jasper adds, "Sir?"

"Jasper," I say, "I believe you met my daughter yesterday, is that correct?" I can hear his small, sharp intake of breath through the receiver. He is surprised, the conversation probably not headed in the direction he originally thought.

"Y-yes," Jasper stutters and I smile, I like the kid already. He's honest. "I met her at the mall, Bella, right? I hope you don't mind my call her that, Sir? She asked me to call her that and I…" He sure is his mother's son all right, the both of them seem to have the same tendency of rambling on when they don't know how to react. Proving my point, Jasper rambles on, "She's a bit strong headed that one, if you don't mind me saying. I mean no disrespect…"

"Not to worry, son," I interrupt. "She's the one."

* * *

><p><strong><span>…<span>**

* * *

><p><strong>Jasper's POV<strong>

_..._

Since the heavens granted me a great honor in allowing me to become my momma's one and only son, I consider myself as being one of the lucky ones. Regardless of the details revolving around the chain of event that lead to my conception and the fact that my birth wasn't what anyone would consider ideal, I strongly believe that I got the better end of a sticky deal.

You see, I am the product of an unwanted pregnancy due to rape. Because of me my momma had to endure through the loss of her family's support when she needed it most. And yet, my momma still finds it within her not to blame me for the constant reminder my existence provides of that tragedy in which she was made into a victim. Instead, somehow, she loves and cherishes me, embraces me as her son.

According to Momma, having her family eventually turn their backs on her and abandoning their only daughter along with their unborn grandchild gave her that tenacious backbone she now has. Because though she sought justice for what had been done to her soon after some of the shock of the violence she endured wore off and she found out that she was pregnant with me, Momma had no advocates on her side.

Instead, her family wouldn't hear any of it, chagrined with the humiliation their daughter had brought upon the family, and simply tried to bury the problem by pretending that nothing had happened. Going as far as asking their teenage daughter not to ruin the family's reputation and pressuring her into further defiling her body, presenting abortion as the only alternative to fully erase the 'problem' and move on. Only, Momma couldn't just 'move on' like her family wanted her to.

Though I'm aware of this and have seen proof of her love for me on a multitude of occasions throughout my life, there's always a twinge of uncertainty prickling at the back of my mind and it continuously feeds my doubts. It is like a living thing that writhes within me, making me believe that a Mother's love has an expiration date and that I shouldn't believe her saccharine words. Because no matter how many times my momma tells me otherwise and tries to reassure me of her encompassing love for me, I should finally see the truths for lies.

_Like father, like son_—this one idiom haunts my every waking moment since I learned about my tainted parentage. A guillotine hangs over my head, since. An oppression that tells me that one day I'll wake up to find myself distorted and a monster that thinks like _he_, my father, does. Once that happens, Momma will look at me with the same haunted look she gets when she has a nightmare about Father and she won't be able to love me anymore...

Constantly I have to question where the lines between love and hate might get blurred. Especially when we fight and don't speak to each other for weeks, that's when the dark thought that my own mamma resents me in some way for the life she's been dealt crosses my mind. This terrifying thought sporadically takes hold of my rational mind before creeping its way into my heart and feeding my cognizance along its crevices with another lethal dosage of the same insecurities that long ago have taken root where light fails to reach.

Yet, when I once gathered all my courage and gave voice to these particulars about my fears to her, Momma nearly grounded me for life for even _thinking_ 'about something so absurd'. Of course, after nearly having a conniption, she sets me straight right on the spot by reminding me of everything we've been through in our fourteen years together once she calmed down.

With her kind and patient words Momma managed to placate my rationality and intellect, making it so that I couldn't even argue otherwise with her reasoning. In her wisdom showing me that the possibility of my fears ever being anywhere near accurate just wouldn't and couldn't be at all possible because I am my Momma's son. Then, she proceeded to let me know that I'm the only man she'll ever have room for in her life and heart, 'don't I ever forget it'.

Needless to say, she made a pretty convincing statement.

While growing up, it has baffled me to see, know, and experience the kind of woman she's become in spite of hers and my circumstances. To me she's _Wonder Woman_, the best woman mechanic around town one minute and the next, she's just your average woman all wrapped up into one amazing, hot-blooded momma package. But like any other, my momma tends to cry when she's been hurt and gets mad, she even becomes impossible to deal with when all her cravings bring the worse out of her during that time of the month all women suffer through.

My momma's endured it all for me, her son, over the years; the condemning looks, the jabs at her self-esteem, the judging glares, the trashing and bashing, and the jealous whispers sharpened with cruelty. But my momma endured through it all, shielding me and making sure I remain unscathed through the worse of the brunt. All without losing her hardheaded will to strive for the things she wants to achieve, even during the times when she thought she wouldn't make it happen for us and giving up would have been easier.

Y'all guessed it, my momma is the person I admire most in this unjust world. In fact, the word "admiration" doesn't fully cover the feelings that my momma evokes whenever I find myself thinking about her and everything she's done and endured in the process of navigating life as a teenage mother. Over the years, through her example I've come to learn and appreciate what it means to have a strong will.

In part, I think that's what makes us two such a strong family. Resilience. Relying only on each other and a few privileged works for us just fine. At the end of the day, it'll still be Momma and me against the world. We've both come a long way heedlessly, since Momma didn't allow us to become another statistic on the teen pregnancy charts. After all, she's the woman who shaped me into the young man I am today and I'm beyond proud to let anyone who might be willing to listen that I am Rosalie Hale's son.

Even if I often fail to see that there might be a higher purpose to my birth, I like to believe that I'm at least the sole reason why Rosalie Hale became a Mother. _My _momma. That's enough for me. It has to be. Ever since she gave birth to me at the tender age of fourteen, Momma's been my provider and she's been incessantly working toward being the best mother she can be all on her own.

Therefore, I say my mother deserves more than my admiration. I'm too proud of her. Too humbled by the honor and privilege of calling her my momma. I wouldn't change her for anything. And, yes, you can say Mother's Day is a big deal around here, especially for me. Again, I'm a sentimental fool, I'll admit to it proudly.

To this day, I still don't know how she does it all. Raising me, keeping up with me and everything life throws her way, and still be the hot momma everyone stares at and lusts over when she drops me off at school.

Yes, I have eyes and ears so I know that my momma is considered _hot_ by the entire male population, teachers included, and hated by every jealous female in existence. To my utter horror she is especially popular among my friends and stars in many of their wet dreams... Something I only know because she's all the guys talk about while we get changed in the locker room and there are just some things that can never be unheard.

For the most part, I'm overly protective of my momma. Especially when someone gets too disrespectful or descriptive while talking about her in front of me. Most of their comments are enough to make me want to cover my ears before they fall off with the suggestive or repulsive things that come out of their mouths and shudder with disgust soon after fixing them a new one. Honestly, I've come to learn that people have no sense of decency sometimes and I've got more than my share of scars to prove it.

Little acquired trophies that mark a timetable here and there across my otherwise unmarred skin, the perfect canvas to the pearly patchwork of a disillusioned childhood and painful memories of growing up as the son of a once teenage mother. Day to day, each little mutilation I have to stare at in the mirror reminds me that I can't let myself forget that I could be the one inflicting similar scars in another and it serves to keep me striving, to make me better.

But more importantly, that I'm not alone in this. I might be wearing my scars on my skin but Momma wears hers on her soul—I've spied them a handful of times. Because of this, not a day goes by that I don't remember how I came to be or the sacrifices my Momma's made in order to make up for all the 'shortcomings' that litter our lives because she, at fourteen years of age, decided that I'm worth loving .

Starting with the absence of a father that I never felt or noticed until a 'friend' made a comment on it during Parent's Day when I was six, completely humiliating my momma. She'd been twenty years old at the time and I'd earned my first trophy for her—a thin little line over my left eyebrow that bled more than it should have.

Yet, to spare my momma from her guilt, from that day onward I made a conscious effort to keep a positive outlook on life and often make sure to let her know that she is everything to me; Mother, Father, Sister…. _Everything_. Even when I finally learned the truth behind the reason for my lack of a father at age twelve, I remained uninterested in regards to _him _and didn't even ask for his name. However, I made the grave mistake of asking after my grandparents.

To this day, nothing has ever topped the nervousness and despair I felt when I learned who I truly am—the good, the bad, the ugly, and the miraculous. However, though this phone call can't quite compare to the heaviness of that conversation, I have to say that I'm inclined to believe it takes second place on my list of unpleasant experiences.

Simply because I've _never _felt more awkward in my life over a phone call. As if to attest this, my treacherous body has me sweating bullets, while I ramble and stutter all over the place as I realize that I'm not in trouble for anything unlawful, except talking to the Phoenix's Chief of Police daughter. I gulp. _Of all things, how come that chatty little girl failed to mention that her poppa is the_ Phoenix Chief of Police_? _

To make matters worse, my momma is following my every move from her seat at the head of the dining table with a bemused and curious expression coloring her features. On a happy note, I'm not in serious trouble with the law or my momma at least. That is, if the Chief doesn't get to me first, I might get to live another day. Or is it too early to scratch law-breaking off the table?

"Son, you are not in any kind of trouble, I just want a word with you," The Chief assures me, putting me out of my misery. Feeling relieved at having this one matter clarified, I sigh. "I just have a favor to ask…"

I hesitate, understanding where this conversation might be headed. Trying to broach the subject as nonchalantly as possible, I lean back against the kitchen counter and cradle the phone on the nook of my shoulder so I can crack the tension of the last fifteen minutes out on my knuckles so I can finally start to relax.

"Is this about your daughter's upcoming birthday party?" I question and I can hear Chief Swan grumbling something unintelligible in the background. Deciding not to push the man, I remain patient and wait until he is ready to speak up again on his own terms. Instinctively, I can sense that doing so is the right and sensible thing to do in this bizarre situation.

"Yes," Chief Swan finally admits through gritted teeth. _Touchy subject_, I guess. "She insisted on having you invited."

"_Oh_." I cringe.

"It's what my daughter wants and my daughter will get what she wants for her birthday," the Chief continues, "even if I have my reservations about it…"

"I-I see, Sir…"

"You _will_ be coming to her birthday party, right?" Chief Swan asks me forcefully and I swear I hear the underlying foundations of a threat adding an edge behind each word. "You _will_ attend and present yourself as _Prince Charming_, right?" I cringe again as the Chief repeats himself, and this time, I can picture a malicious grin forming on his featureless face.

"Yes, Sir, of course," I agree. "My schedule is all open for tomorrow, nothin' in the near horizon but your daughter's birthday party."

"Terrific."

_It sure doesn't sound like it,_ I digress.

"Just to make sure, so I'm no party crasher." I chuckle nervously. "This _is_ you invitin' me to your daughter's birthday party, right, Sir?" _Please say no… just, say no… Please?_

"It is, Jasper," Chief Swan says, sounding pleasant for once. "My daughter will be thrilled to have you there, so don't disappoint her."

_ Or you'll hunt me down and probably put a bullet through my head, got it_, I add mentally. I, too, can read between the lines.

"I wouldn't dream of it, Sir," I promise.

"Excellent!"

Fearing for my life, I make a mental note to check out what kind of guns policemen carry around these days the moment I get off the phone with the Chief. And while at it, I'll make sure to find a picture of the Chief and memorize his face. Also, it can't hurt none to find out at what speed bullets travel and more importantly I want to know what chances does a fourteen-year-old boy has of surviving a bullet wound, if any.

_Just to be on the safe side._

"What time would you like me there, Sir?" I hedge. "And what's the address of the place the party is being held tomorrow?"

"One o'clock sharp, son," Chief Swan informs me. "Now, as for the address… Do you have paper and pen to write down the directions?" I answer to the affirmative as soon as Momma provided me with some. "Good. The address is…"

"Got it, Paradise Valley…" Writing down the address and all the directions the Chief gives me on how to get to his house from where I live, I take careful measure in making sure that my handwriting is legible enough for my momma to later decipher. On the other hand, though I really want to ask, I can't work up the nerve to ask the Chief how he knows my location. So instead, I say, "Thank you Chief Swan."

Given that he's the Phoenix Chief of Police, I content myself with assuming that it's part of his job description to know these sorts of things. Also, I'm terribly glad and thankful that the Chief didn't personally come to my doorsteps and deliver the invitation. Therefore, I decide to forgo curiosity for the evening. _Shocking_, I know.

"Also," the Chief says, interrupting my thoughts. "Jasper, son?"

"Yes, Chief Swan?"

"Why don't you dress the part, you know, and make everyone believe that you are the real _Prince Charming_?" Chief Swan asks me and I almost choke on my own spit, groaning internally. The dreaded request!

"Um…" I open my mouth to refuse but my tongue has either gone to sleep or completely forgotten how to work in my favor.

"Since everyone at this party will be dressing the part, I can't have you refuse." I can hear the mirth falling off in chunks from the tone of the Chief's voice as he informs me of this little detail. Given the horrorstruck marring my features, I'm so very glad Chief Swan can't see my face right now.

_He _can't _right? I sure hope so. _Getting slightly paranoid, I glance out the kitchen window as furtively as I can manage… I see nothing out of the ordinary. Just the trees, cars parked on the streets, some kids playing, and our trashcan_. But that doesn't mean anything in this time and age of technology,_ I think darkly.

_What's wrong? _Mamma mouths, coming to stand by me as she registers my obvious panic. I shake my head at her and whisper a feeble 'Later' away from the phone's mouthpiece.

"Will do, Chief, Sir," I agree reluctantly, seeing no other way out and sounding much calmer than I feel. Once she hears, Momma's gonna have a ball with this plot twist. The thought nearly makes me groan aloud and I all but bite my tongue to keep it in check. I almost dread asking but I probe, "Anything else?

"No," the Chief replies, to my relief. "That about covers it all… Unless you have any other questions for me?"

"Sir, can my momma accompany me?" I ask after a moment of deliberating. "Actually, if I'm to follow through on your request, there might be four of us total."

_Four? _Mamma queries. I shrug, irritating her.

"Certainly, that won't be a problem," the Chief accepts. "Preferable, even."

"Thank you, Chief, and good evenin'," I bid, ready to be over with my mortification and dive into the next portion of it—explaining everything that went on to my momma who is nearly bursting with questions.

"Not so fast son," the Chief interjects. I sigh silently. _What now?_ "Remember, I know where you live." One last threat that sounds much too cheery and does the intended job of making me fear for my safety in the hours and days to come.

"I will see you and your daughter tomorrow, at one o'clock sharp, you can count on it, Sir!" I promise, the lump on my throat making speech rather uncomfortable.

"Much better, son," The Chief says with a smile in his voice. "Good evening to you and your mother, Jasper."

"G' evening to you too, Chief," I bid in turn, finally hanging up the phone and ending the most terrifying call of my life, and hopefully my last. My nerves won't work the same ever again, I'm certain.

"So…" My momma trails off. Breathing in oxygenated-courage, I turn to face her with a solemn look in my eyes. "Anything you want to tell me?"

"I don't know what you mean," I stall and stare at her dubiously.

"Were you…" Trailing off, Momma gapes. "Were you messin' around with the Chief's daughter?" My eyes go as wide as saucers… The conclusions my momma jumps to! I am aghast! "Is he now going to be coming after you with his gun?"

Exasperated, I _literally_ slam my palm against my forehead.

"Momma!" I protest with a groan. She goes into a fit of laughter. "First of, I'm not old enough to be doing any of that." –At my admission, I blush furiously– "Secondly, we've talked about _that_ and y' know I would talk to you before, y' know, doin' _that_..." I trail off, my mortification reaching new heights. Clearing my throat, I continue, "Thirdly, _Momma_, Bella's _eight_! Or she's about to be anyway, and besides, she's the little girl from the mall."

"Ok, ok, I get it!" At last, she understands. I had told her all about the episode at the mall, since, as I'd guessed, Emmett just had to tell our entire family about what he overheard. "Sorry son," she manages between chuckles. I glare at her, not at all finding my situation comical. "So the Phoenix's Chief of Police is Bella's father, is he?" I nod. "And he _actually_ called to invite you to his little girl's birthday?" Momma asks dubiously. Again, I nod. "Well, lucky you."

_No, not really… _Reluctantly, I nod.

"You are invited too," I point out, but this new bit of information only makes my momma grin even wider now. _That's right, now she gets to enjoy my suffering first hand and for free. _I scowl. She's enjoying this too much, my suffering.

"_Prince Jasper_," My momma says, sighing in that dreamy, scary way that only girls do and looks off into the distance with a mocking faraway look in her eyes. I click my tongue at her impatiently.

"Momma!" I protest, heavily pouting. "This ain't funny."

"Now my son, I will have to disagree with you on this one," she proclaims, ruffling the top of my faux hawk fade and kissing my forehead. "Since I'm assuming she's one of the four coming along, do excuse me because I can't wait to tell your Aunt Alice…" She chuckles maliciously and snatches the phone out of my unsuspecting hand, that familiar evil glint making a dreaded appearance.

_Oh-oh… Oh… Oh, no… _

"Momma, you wouldn't?" I whine, aghast.

"You'll need to dress the part now, wouldn't you?" She tells me, right brow arched and hands on her hips. She has me there. Hating the reminder, I groan. "I'll take that as a yes then!" she chirps gleefully.

"B-but..." I stutter, trying to find something with which to stall this next catastrophe. Finding nothing, I stop breathing and furiously shake my head. "Momma, don't just yet!" I plead desperately.

"Well," she says, clapping her hands and ignoring me, "we are pressed for time and in need of your Aunt's services…"

Horrified, I watch as the seams of my pride begin to unravel, unfolding before me like one great calamity I no longer have any power to stop. Everything seems to slow down to a crawl as my momma turns on her heel, walks out of the kitchen with the phone in hand, hits the power button on the dial pad, dials, places the receiver on her ear, and listens as the dial tone is replace with a ring—one _ring_, two _rings_, three _rings _and…

"Hey Alice! Get over here right now!" Momma says, glancing over her shoulder at me as I take an involuntary step in her direction. "Yes, this is an emergency! Believe me, when you hear what _just_ happened to Jasper–"

"_Nooooooooooooooooooo!_" I hear myself scream and launch.

Okay, okay, I'll admit it. That's obviously not _happened_ but it is what I _wanted_ to do. Anything would work, really, if it puts a stop to the tragedy my life's about to turn into. Because, so far, for reasons unbeknownst to me, Emmett's been keeping his trap shut at school, but I'm sure that once this blows over, he won't be able to keep it up much longer.

I am so _royally_ doomed. Get it? _Prince Charming… _Oh, forget it.

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><p><em><strong><span>…<span>**_

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><p><em><strong> AN: **__Please be kind, REVIEW. Thank you for reading!_

_Until next chapter,_

_Amaterasu Kinesi_


	3. A Charmed Little Princess & Her Prince 1

**Once Upon a Time;**

_"Hey Alice, you won't believe this, Jasper–"_

_"Nooooooooooooooooooo!" I hear myself scream and launch._

_Okay, okay, I'll admit, that wasn't what happened but it was what I wanted to do. Anything would have worked, really, if it managed to stop the tragedy my life was about to turn into. Because, so far, for reasons unbeknownst to me, Emmett had kept his trap shut, but I was sure that once this blew over, he wouldn't be able to keep it up._

_I was royally doomed. Get it? Prince Charming… Oh, forget it._

* * *

><p><strong>OoO<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Scouting for Prince Charming<strong>

**Tale III:**

_**A Charmed Little Princess and Her Prince**_

_**[Or Doomsday]**_

**Jasper's PoV**

I was aghast, appalled, astounded, and any other word that can be used to describe my utter shock that begins with the letter "a" but, mostly, I am perplexed. How had this happened? How had I let this happen? If you are wondering what the heck I'm talking about, you just have to take a head to toe look at me and you'd understand. This is a onetime offer I'm making so stare away with me...

With my mouth hanging slightly agape and eyes as wide as saucers with horror at the sight before me, I groan. "This" is what I'm talking about. Staring at my reflection on the full length mirror of my mother's closet I can do little but groan. Mainly because my previous execution of run and hide until the circus left town was a downright failure. Partly because I am a man of my word and once my word is given, I do not back down.

My new policy is killing me, I will have you know. Because, right now, my reflection is a total walking, breathing contradiction, thanks to dear Aunt Alice. I can't believe I ever had a crush on her. And, before you go off telling me how gross that is, let's clear something up, she's not biologically my aunt.

So, inspection from head to toe, right; my faux hawk's been styled to disarrayed perfection, my punk rock-ish attire has been put to hang for the afternoon in exchange for... (cue in the face palm slam!) a royal blue long sleeved vest with tasseled shoulder pads, a billion rose gold buttons to match, and a thin black belt to make it all come together around my waist. Aunt Alice's words, not mine.

Next, we have matching pants that for some unappealing reason come together like a flap at the front to fasten with a set of six opposing buttons along each hipbone and stop two inches above my navel, but come to just below the knee, fastened by a set of four buttons of the same gold on the outer calves.

To complement that, knee high, white stockings, and "manly heels", ultra shiny polished shoes with rose gold buckles and all to complete the royal look. And have I mentioned the ruffles on the chest, no? Now I did. It even comes with a sword and everything. Do you get the reason behind my mortification yet?

"Charming, dude." I nearly get whiplash trying to turn at the speed of light to growl at Emmett, who's just arrived, to leave me alone. Since he's here I can only imagine he's here for one thing, and that is to ridicule me some more. 'Cause the bashing the first time around wasn't enough.

"Shut-" Only, he is not smirking the Cheshire cat that ate the canary smile, like I suspected he would be. Instead, he looks bashful, something Emmett is not, unless extreme conditions force him to. This alone gives me pause. I take in all of Emmett's five foot, seven inches frame in and I immediately understand why he's not laughing at me like a hyena.

"I come in peace?" He says and the geek in him sprouts its head as he salutes the way only a trekky would. He can be such a geek sometimes. That's when I notice what he's wearing and I can't help it, I double over and holler with laughter. "...And then, not so charming."

"Sorry, dude, I didn't mean it," I apologize, trying to suppress another chuckle or hoping to pass it off as a cough. Tough luck.

"It's okay, dude, even if you meant it," he says good-naturedly, "Now I understand how you feel. I shouldn't have laughed at you, I feel terrible." So he says, but I can see the telltale sings of that smirk forming again.

Emmett will be Emmett in any case. Whether he's laughing at your expense, in this case mine, or his own. The guy still has stellar humor, part of the reason why I can never stay mad at him.

"Sure," I consent. "So, what are you supposed to be and what are you wearing?" Emmett was pretty much dressed like myself minus the shoulder pads and some subtle changes here and there. Only, his inside shirt was twice as frilly if you can imagine, and instead his vest is red, black, and gold. And he has this little hat with a feather stuck to it over his combed curls.

"Anyway, I'm supposed to be your loyal footman," he announces, smiling like his life depended on it and showcasing those lady-killer dimples of his before attempting a gallant bow that didn't turn out so gallant at all. Surprisingly, he sounds convincingly proud, except for that little twitch on the left corner of his mouth, otherwise, I would have bought it.

"Wait, Emmett... Did you comb your hair?" Like they say in _What About Bob?, _"He never does that". Okay, so maybe it's "She never says that", but you get the point.

This is why you gotta love aunt Alice. She takes your idea of revenge and executes with astonishing success, better than you ever imagined.

"Only because I was too shocked," he admits. "Can you believe my own mother threatened me?" I could. The woman was a spitfire.

"I'm so sorry man." And I mean it. "Don't sweat it, man, we are in this together," I say, patting him consolingly on the back. "But I'm curious, where on earth did your momma get all... _this_?" I finally ask, staring down at my costume with some unconcealed contempt and flicking at the frills in disgust.

"I have not the slightest idea," he says, scowling at his own attire. "That's my mother for you, always coming through." Bitter much?

"She's something that aunt Alice," I agree, of course.

He sighs. "Man, I knew this thing of yours was gonna come bite me in the ass one way or another." Scratch that, he is outright whining now. "Why the hell do you think I kept this embarrassing juicy piece of information all to myself and kept my trap shut when I could have ruined you?"

"I was wondering about that," I mumble.

"So that I wouldn't get caught up in your... whatever this shit is," he explains. Not that I asked.

"I see."

"Do you really? 'Cause I honestly think you don't."

"Sorry." I really am.

"Is this some kind of social suicide dare or experiment you're conducting?" Emmett questions after an awkward silence. "'Cause, you know, I'm with you, right? We can go find those hooligans and show them that you and I are not to be messed with and kick them three ways into next year."

"Honestly," I snort, "what are you? The mafia?" I chuckle. "And man, I know that you've just discovered the dictionary recently, but "hooligans", seriously? You need a new word of the day my man." I say this, but I don't mean it. I know better.

Honestly, sometimes I suspect that he is smarter than our two IQ's put together and he's just watering down his intelligence to feet the mold. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised if he ends up valedictorian of our class, when that time comes. He'd just have to fight me for the title.

But I guess being intimidating in appearance alone has its downfall. Emmett would be a total outcast, for sure, if anyone were to get wind of how intelligent he actually is. Add intellect to that massive frame he possess and he sticks out like a sore thumb.

He'd surely be bullied, since he fits the description of a "gentle giant". That's why he's played it cool all this years and only lets people see him as a buffoon rather than the dorky-ish geek he truly is.

"Or are you just that stupidly honest?" He finally asks, ignoring my totally legit jibe.

"I didn't have a choice," I admit pathetically in my defense. "The Chief was grueling me and I caved, okay? I think he thought I was a pedophile… And I did make his daughter a promise…" I stare at him dumbly, feeling the itch of a smirk forming as I wait for his response.

"That's what I thought. You seriously need to think before you speak from now on," my cousin advises thoughtfully.

"I can do that." I _think_.

"Cuz, you know you are my number one bitch, but seriously, we've got to corrupt you some more! Beat that honesty out of you." He smirks. "Whip you _good_!"

"Sure, sure, just don't let my momma hear ya talking like that in her house. Remember last time?" I warn. "Specially not about corrupting her only son."

"We'll just have to see how she holds up against my lady-killer dimples counterattack," he says, wagging his eyebrows suggestively. "I wasn't aware of this powerful tool last time, after all."

I snort. "You do realize it's my momma we are talking about, right?" My cousin has issues, I tell you.

"Help me think of another counterattack?" Emmett pleads, trying to look like the picture perfect angel of innocence. Just, don't tell him he looks more like a devil. It'll only serve to encourage him. I suppress another laugh. "Common…" he pouts.

"No way man, leave me out of your mastermind plans." When you know you are about to enter willingly into a minefield and you are sure the outcome will be a no win situation, it's better to quit while you're ahead.

"Party pooper!" he taunts.

I punch his arm in protest. "No way," I refuse again. "Nothing you say can convince me to change my mind, so stop trying."

"But you're the one that knows her be-e-est, we have got to join forces!" I shake my head. He's incorrigible. "Besides, two thinking, highly functional brains are better than one, right Pinky?"

"You know, Brain, I think we've done enough plotting and corrupting for one day, give it a rest Cuz," I dissuade, putting an arm around his shoulder and making him turn towards the mirror. "Let's stay focused on the now and the catastrophe ahead." I point to the mirror, bringing his attention to our reflection. "Like a car crash waiting to happen…"

"Oh, God, have mercy," we both groan. Staring at our reflection in the mirror, we both knew we needed it. We look... I have no words to express how ridiculous we look. There aren't enough words in the English dictionary to describe this atrocity.

I give a low whistle. Emmett scratches the back of his head and we both grimace simultaneously at our reflection.

"We look... dashing?" Emmett goes for the full swing and fouls. And by the pained look on his face, he knows it. I know I know it. We grimace.

By the time aunt Alice nearly makes us jump out of our own skins, we'd sunk deeper into our own painful forms of mental mutilation with no way out of this one. I was thinking of death by tripping down the stairs when-

"Oh, bo-o-oys!" came aunt Alice's too happy, singsong voice from downstairs. "Are you two ready or do I have to go up there and make you ready myself?"

"No!" Emmett and I scream, partly in horror and dread at the frightening idea. And mainly because the woman terrifies us when she's in her "get things done" mode. I shiver at the mere thought and Emmett shudders along with me. I know then, we are of one mind.

"Then hurry it up and get your asses down here, before I get them down here for you," she bellows threateningly, yet merrily so. We flinch.

"Language, Alice," my momma warns from somewhere.

"We want to take some pictures before leaving, now hurry! " she adds, ignoring my momma. Now I know where Emmett gets his amazing potty mouth vocabulary, though I've had my suspicions for a while now. "We can't afford to be late, your Princess awaits."

"Doomsday," Emmett mutters under his breath. "Damn it, I hate it when she gets like this." I nod, fully agreeing.

"I'm coming up…!"

"No! Coming!" We holler downstairs, looking like deer caught in the headlights and hasten to our doom in a flurry of stiff royal blue and red fabric, not to mention itchy. Ready or not the first part of the show's about to begin.

"You so owe me big time," Emmett breathes as we round the last steps. I say nothing. There's nothing I can really say to make this okay for either of us. I doubt it'll even be remotely gratifying.

"There you are boys!" greets aunt Alice as soon as she's spot us, her big gray eyes taking in our appearance in stride. She seems satisfied with her work. We scowl, but that doesn't deter her. "Oh, how handsome you both look!" she gushes and we're about to gag. "Come see how handsome they both look, Rose!"

As I start to fidget aunt Alice starts fussing over Emmett some more, removing imaginary lint and re-straightening what's already straight, adding to his mortification. Only, he won't say anything, unless he wants to lose the use of his X-box for a year. No joke. You've got to admire how she lies with a straight face, even when it's directed at you, and at five foot, three inches to boot.

"Coming Alice…" Immediately, I hear my mother's footstep echoing our way from the kitchen and I think I'm hyperventilating but Emmett elbows me, forcing me to take a painful breath. Nursing my ribs, I glare at him and give a curt nod in resentful thanks.

"Don't mention it," he mouths. There's no smirk, only his ears are growing redder and redder by the second and I know he's just as mortified as I am.

"Oh, stop your fussing you two, you guys look great," Aunt Alice, admonishes.

"So you said," I mumble resentfully.

"I hope you're not disrespecting your aunt, Jasper Hadrian Whitlock."

"No ma'am," I say. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Stand still Emmett!" Aunt Alice admonishes with a stomp of her tiny, size five foot.

"Mom, stop it, leave me alone, it's _fine_!" My poor cousin whines, momentarily distracting me from my jitters.

"Don't be such a baby, Emmet McCarty," I hear aunt Alice tell Emmett with a pout. "I just want my handsome baby boy to look as dashing as possible." Guilt trip, if I ever heard one. "Is that too much to ask?"

Emmett groans in protest as she finally backs away with a pout to drive the guilt straight to the gut. "Mom, look, I'm sorry…" And it works. "You know I'm not a baby anymore, right? So you seriously need to stop doing stuff like this."

"But you'll always be my baby," Aunt Alice pouts, eyes full of tears that we both know won't fall. Still, they do the trick, like a punch to the heart.

Emmett rubs a hand over and down his face in frustration. "Sure mom," he mumbles, knowing that he's lost the battle. I would be laughing but then, I'm in the same boat as he is.

It's my turn to elbow him as I spy my momma rounding the corner out of my peripheral and I do so just in time.

"Let's see our boys…" Standing at attention, I look anywhere but at my mother as she comes into sight and I can tell, out of the corner of my eye, that Emmett is doing the same. We wait and… _nothing_.

Curiosity gets the better of me and I glance at my momma to see why she hasn't said anything. I gape. She's staring at me and she has this look on her face I've never seen before... like... her eyes are full of tears! Alarmed, I look to Emmett for answers but he's looking at me, my own alarm mirrored on his face.

"Momma?" I ask.

In that moment, I watch in fascination as her composure begins to waver until she finally snorts and her giggles turn into outright uncontrollable laughter. Of course.

"Hey!" I hear Emmett protest for the both of us, but I can't look at my momma. She's betrayed me.

"Rose!" Aunt Alice protests a beat later. "Be supportive, remember?"

"I know. I'm so sorry, Emmett… Jasper, sweetie, I was trying so hard not to laugh. I'm sorry, honestly, I just couldn't help it..."

I sigh. "This is all your fault you know?" I accuse, sounding more hurt than I intended. Crossing my arms over my chest in an attempt to shield myself from her ridicule, I glare at her and begin chewing on the inside of my lower lip furiously.

"I know, baby, and I'm sorry," she apologizes once again. "But you can't put all the blame on me, young man. You were the one that made that little girl a promise," She reminds me gently and reaches out for me. "You need to own up to that, my baby."

"I know," I sigh and take a step toward her. As soon as I'm at arm's length, she hugs me.

"Whatever," I mumbled against her hair, a goofy little smile playing at my lips as she ruffles my hair.

"ROSE!" Aunt Alice screeches. We jump. "You're messing his hair," she protests.

"Oh hush, you, I'm sure some more gel will do the trick," momma tells her, rolling her eyes.

"Really, Rose..."

I smirk, staring at my momma as aunt Alice disappears out of sight muttering obscenities under her breath. "What?" she asks defensively.

I shrug in answer. "Nothing…"

"Aah..." she says, as understanding dawns on her. "Well, don't you be gettin' any ideas young man," she warns. My smile wavers. "Do as I say and not as I do, remember? Just because I do something doesn't mean you should."

"Yes momma."

"You both look handsome?" she supplies. I give her credit for trying.

Emmett and I grimace. "Yeah, right," we snort. We can't help it, we laugh and momma and aunt Alice joins in.

"Okay," momma squirms through fits of giggles, "I love you both, but you look ridiculous. No offense Alice, you did a good job. As always."

"None taken," Aunt Alice's, says with a small pout that lasts a second before she has her camera out and starts taking pictures.

**OoO**

After the flurry of candied pictures and some posing, we are finally on our way to the truest form of humiliation, death by toddlers.

By the time the winding road leads us to the main gate of the Chief of Police's residence, my nerves are fried and my stomach is in knots with butterflies clawing all over the place. In other words, I feel sick. And the utter silence in the car is not helping.

"Nice," Emmett whistles appreciatively, capturing my attention.

"What?" I ask quietly, feeling too queasy to speak any louder.

In answer, he jerks his head straight ahead. I look. It is a sight to behold.

"Yes, who are you here to see?" the gate guard asks. Isn't it obvious?

Unable to say anything else coherent as I take in the view, I echo Emmett's words. There was a small gathering ahead but you could tell the party was just beginning and everyone was having fun. We could even hear the quite hum of music all the way over here.

My cell phone reads 1:15pm, meaning we are fifteen minutes late. Great.

"Yes, we are here for Isabella Swan's birthday celebration," I heard my mother inform the guard. "I'm bringing Prince Charming." I could hear her giggle at the words. Of course, the guard was none the wiser but I was.

"How mortifying..." I groan halfheartedly.

The party was going full force and there were children running merrily all over the place, some chasing and others being the chased. And in the middle of it all stood a gigantic baby blue and lilac funhouse modeled like a castle, the reason for our "nice". In fact, everything was baby blue and lilac or lavender, from the decorations to the tablecloth. Also, I noted that everyone was dressed like a princess or prince with the occasional frog or lion. Go figure.

"Perfect, please, go ahead," says the guard with obvious relief, "they've been expecting you." He lets us in and I have to do everything to not let myself shrivel up and shrink inwardly, no matter how tempting the idea sounds.

"Thank you." My momma puts the car into gear and forward we go into the realm of my humiliation...

Trying to distract myself from the impending doom, I busy myself with trying to find the birthday girl. After a while, I locate her sitting underneath a white tarp next to a woman that must be her mother because they look remarkably alike. She's a contradiction of all the merriment going around her, like she's been crying in spite of this being her day.

For some odd reason my heart feels unsettled at the sight of the smiling girl I met just the other day at the mall crying. As if compelled by something, all my jitters evaporate and I find myself speaking before the words are fully formed in my mind.

"Momma," I hear myself say quietly. "Stop the car."

Slightly alarmed, mom skids the car to a stop. "Jasper, what's wrong?"

"Thanks momma," I say, ignoring her question and opening my door, I step out.

"Jasper, dude, what's-"

"Emmett, just come with me."

"Jasper!" I ran and Emmett followed after me uncertainly.

"Just find some parking aunt Rose, I'll go after him!" I hear him tell my momma as I race ahead and up the small slope leading over a cul-de-sac where the party is taking place. "Jasper! Wait up man!"

"Remember what aunt Alice told you to say?" I ask him as soon as he caught up.

"You are not serious..."

"My princess has been crying," I explain, "I think she's been waiting for me to show. I'm late..."

"Shi-" he began but caught himself as a group of gleeful toddlers squealed by us. "Shoot." That's a start. "You're serious..." I nod. "You and your mystery princess are killing me man."

"Sorry?" Nope, I'm not the least bit repentant.

"Right. I can't take the suspense, let's get this party started so I can hurry up and meet this little princess that's got you all wrapped around her little finger."

"Thanks man."

"What are wingmen for?"

"To serve as my footman?" I jab.

"Funny."

"I try." I point at my little princess, "Look Emmett, that's today's special little lady."

"Well then, show time it is..." Emmett announces and clears his throat.

"Here goes nothing," I mumble under my breath and let Emmett get ahead of me. Taking a deep breath, I stand tall and realize that maybe this won't be so bad after all.

"May I have your attention please?" I hear Emmett boom and my lip quirks into a smile as I open my eyes to see everyone staring at a pink-eared Emmett, including a very curious Isabella. I could almost hear the trumpets…

_You can do this Emmett._

With a deep breathe he plungers through to say the embarrassing practiced lines his momma suggested he'd say. "I am announcing the entrance of my Master," he hollers, looking sideways at me with a painful smile. I nod encouragingly. "Prince Jasper Charming."

Now _my_ ears are the ones going pink and I feel my cheeks warm as Isabella perks up, but I saunter forward. As soon as Isabella, my little princess sees me she shoots up like she's been electrocuted and I focus on her. I want to backtrack and hide but I hold tight to my resolve and determine to see this through to the end.

"Bella, darling, are you okay?" asks her mother and the Chief of Police, fussing over their awestruck child who's paying them no mind.

I continue to walk straight up to her, feeling all eyes on me but I keep mine focused on her wide brown ones alone and try not to break the spell. Now a foot away from her I hear her gasp, eyes shining, as she strains her neck to stare at me. I smile and bow.

"Princess Swan," I begin and my words seem to animate her as she begins to blush and takes a few shaky steps in my direction. "Madam Swan, Chief Swan," I greet the flustered parents next, but my eyes remain on the spell bound little Swan.

"Prince Charming..." she mutters shyly and every single one of her girl friends gasps. I nod and she smiles, surprising me by curtsying before going back to shuffling on her feet.

I smile brilliantly at her. "I'm here to accept your cordial invitation to your grand ball, Princess Swan," I tell her. "I hope I'm not too late and that I'm still invited." With that, I bow, returning her curtsy.

Feeling slightly apprehensive, for some reason, I watch as she searches for something and I can almost see her mind working overtime. Finally, just when I begin to grow impatient, she shakes her head and stares up at me again.

"You're just in time," she says, "Thank you for coming!"

Now I see, she was looking for the right words.

She was smiling, the universe was right once again.

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><p><strong><em>AN: _**_Thank you to all of you who have patiently waited for this update, hope it was worth the wait. Sorry I couldn't include it all... Please, review._


	4. A Charmed Little Princess & Her Prince 2

_**Once Upon a Time;**_

_Feeling slightly apprehensive, for some reason, I watch as she searches for something and I can almost see her mind working overtime. Finally, just when I begin to grow impatient, she shakes her head and stares up at me again._

_"You're just in time," she says, "Thank you for coming!"_

_Now I see, she was looking for the right words._

_ She was smiling, the universe was right once again._

* * *

><p><strong>Scouting for Prince Charming<strong>

** Tale IV:**

_**A Charmed Little Princess and Her Prince, Part II**_

_** [or Girl's Got Spunk]**_

"Mommy and Daddy didn't lie!" Bella squealed.

"Of course we didn't," muttered the Chief, somewhat indignantly and with a bit of a flush coloring his cheeks. She gets that from him, I observe.

In a flurry of frosted blue, lilac, and lavender fabric with her hair in tight ringlets under a tiara bellowing behind her, Bella came at me and I had little to no time in which to react. On instinct, I drop to one knee and catch her as she launches, wrapping her wiry arms around me and pecking my lips with hers.

Shock.

The gathered crowd gasps and falls eerily silent.

I hear my internal clock ticking, I have point five seconds to live on this earth before Chief Swan takes his gun and puts a bullet straight through my brain. Okay, I did my research. He won't be able to blow my brains out with his "Less-than-Lethal" weapon, but he'll achieve the desired effect nonetheless, I'm sure.

Which is to stun me and, or, immobilize me, the actual victim here, whose virtue has been put to the test. Even though the bullets might be made out of rubber and all that, I still find no solace in that. Nope, given that I'll be shot at close range, worst case scenario, I'll end up with a broken arm or leg and end up with the ugliest bruise I've ever had to date.

_Comforting_, you know?

I find myself gulping as our audience falls uncomfortably quite, eerily so, and I feel an angry set of eyes trained on me, which I can only guess belong to the Chief.

Looking up, I know my assumptions are spot on as my eyes fall on the Chief's face, which is growing an angrier puce by each second that ticks by. I can tell how much of a strain it is for him to just stand there, frozen to the spot by the uncontrollable twitch his mustache is undergoing. I would find this comical under different circumstance, since it's _my_ hide he's after, not so much.

Somehow, I think I'm in horrified awe of my executioner, since he's still standing there, fuming, and not acting on one of those crazy scenarios I'm sure are running through his head, which most likely include some form of strangulation.

Gotta give the man some merit where it's deserved.

But I know it won't last, any minute now and I'll be Jasper putty, a. k. a. HISTORY. It's been nice to know ya all and a pleasure to let ya in on my story up to now. Now would probably be a good time to say my goodbyes in every language I know...

Farewell.

Hasta luego.

Addio, Arrivederci.

Adieu, au revoir.

Abschied.

Adeus.

Wakare, sayōnara.

Vale.

As all these is going through my head, I peep sideways at Emmett for some help but he's as frozen on the spot as I am. We exchange a helpless look that says, _Dude, I'm so sorry. Can't help you. You're dead. And even though you're my cousin and all, I ain't gonna go down with ya_. I don't blame him, I get it.

Dismayed, I take a chance to survey the crowd before bringing my attention back to Bella. Internally I groan as I spot Aunt Alice and my momma among the surveyors, they're both gaping along with everyone else. Though, Aunt Alice has an unreadable look on her face that seems much too familiar for comfort. But I can tell my momma looks more amused than worried. Women, I really don't get them after all.

Even the little ones are gaping. But there are two pairs of little eyes, one pair green and the other black, shooting daggers at me. They seem to tell me, _Oh, yeah? Game on_. And judging by the look of them, they'd been fighting each other before any of this went down and now that I've been added to the equation, they're calling a truce and teaming up against me. _Brilliant, more enemies._

_God, I can't believe my first kiss' been stolen from me by an eight year old!,_my mind shouts at me as I realize this. I never thought I'd had to guard my virtue against little ladies much younger than myself!

Just as I think this, the minute kiss stealer giggles and extricates herself from my person and like a blushing bride on her wedding day, she flushes furiously. I take this opportunity to stand up, slowly. Now that the shock of the moment is sort of wearing off, she's making _me_blush.

"Sorry," she whispers shyly, tears of embarrassment brimming her eyes. "I- I tripped. I didn't- You know..." she trails off, knotting her little fingers together nervously and biting her lower lip. I watch as a stray tear falls and she swipes at it furiously before anyone else notices, hiding behind her loose ringlets.

I stare. She _tripped_?I'm at a loss for words, unsure of myself or what I ought to do in this sort of predicament. I hedge, opting for more time through silence. The crowd starts to mumble, animated once again, but their distinct words not reaching me past the rush of blood coursing loudly through my ears.

At my silence she takes a step away from me, like I've stricken her or something. My heart begins to hammer painfully against my chest at the sight of her tears and pained expression, like it might crack a rib or something if it continues at this pace. I never intended for my silence to hurt her...

"Jasper..." I think I hear my momma call quietly. I ignore her.

"I- It's- It's okay," I sooth uncertainly. "Like you said, you... _tripped_."Emmett snorts at the absurdity of it all. Bella shuffles uncertainly on her well hidden feet, getting redder, and as I see a few tears catch and fall, I glare at him.

He's right though, it really isn't. The dubious look on her tearstained face as she watches me take a step towards her tells me she doesn't buy it, but is grateful for my words. She smiles timidly, I smile back, and-

"Easy now, Charlie..." Whom I assume to be the Chief's wife and Bella's mother is telling him while holding on to his arm to keep him from getting to me. "Don't do anything harsh. We both saw the same thing," she states rationally. "Bella tripped on her way to greet the boy and he tried to catch her. End of story."

I'm indebted to the woman, I thank her silently. However, I feel like I've been rescued from the fire, only to be transferred into the frying pan. Nope, I'm not out of the woods yet.

"Renee, let me go, _now_," the Chief tells her slowly, enunciating each word menacingly. She lets him go like she's been burned. By the looks of it, he never talks to her like that, if I were to guess. Things are so not going according to plan, not that I ever had a plan to begin with... but you get the point.

"Now, Charlie, there's really no need for you to take that tone with me," Renee tells him, squaring herself, hands on her hips. Oh, boy, is he in trouble now. I watch in fascination as the Chief, standing at five feet, nine inches, sputters before this five feet, three inches menace of a woman.

"Sorry," he says meekly, not looking at her.

"Now, go thank the boy for catching your daughter."

I'm watching this like I would a tennis match, avidly.

"What- I- But-" The Chief sputters in protest.

"No "buts" Charlie Swan."

"But Renee!"

"I said no "buts"," She makes a point of reminding him. Mostly everyone's lost interest by now in the happenings of the last five minutes and are going back to what they were previously doing, or still watching the scene before them with some humor. As for me, I'm waiting to see how this plays out.

"Daddy, be nice!" Bella put in, stomping her little feet.

"Bella, sweetheart, Daddy's trying here..." The Chief says, looking flustered as his two women turn on him.

"Try harder," She demands, pouting. I bite my lip, it's all I can do not to start laughing as Emmett begins to snicker next to me. "He's my _Prince Charming_, Daddy," Bella stresses, "and he came to my ball. So you gotta be nice, Daddy."

"I see what you meant," Emmett tells me, momentarily distracting me. "This little lady's got some legit spunk going for her."

"She's got spunk all right," I mutter, smiling broadly.

"I won't talk to you ever again if you're not nice Daddy," I hear Bella threaten.

"I think she means business, Charles," Renee interjects. "You better listen to your daughter unless-"

"Not until I'm... nine!" Her idea of "never again", cute. Just the right blow to make the Chief cave in defeat.

"You want _that _to happen," Renee puts in her last two cents. By now, Emmett and I are so amused we are practically doubled over in laughter as Bella turns her back on the Chief.

"Pyon, pyon!" The black haired kid with the black eyes that was glaring at me previously says as he pretends to shoot the Chief down with his toy gun. "Be nice to Belly, Chie'ff. I get you! Pyon, pyon!"

"You too?" The Chief groans, but by now he's smiling.

"Yesh, Chief, pyon, pyon! No making Bells cry!" Screams the green eyed boy with the breezin' bronze hair right after. "Pyon, pyon!"

"Hey!" the russet boy protests, pointing a finger at bronze kid. "Don't say what I say!"

"I didn't!" The bronze kid argues. "Let's not fight," He sighs. "We're on the same team, remember Jake?"

"Oh, okay," Jake says, rolling his eyes and sneers, "_Edward_."

Edward glares at Jake. "Just saying."

"And I'm just _saying_, Belly's mine!"

"Nuh-uh, not fair, I've known her longer!" Edward argues. "She's mine!"

"Ugh! Daddy and boys are silly..." Bella puts in before running past the gaping Chief and boys. I have this strong urge to chase after her but rule it in and stay put.

"Bella, sweetheart," The Chief calls after his daughter, looking heartbroken. I feel kind of bad for him. The boys recuperate from their momentary daze and glare at each other.

"Truce?" Jake asks begrudgingly, extending Edward his hand.

"Whatever," replies Edward, spitting on his hand and taking Jake's extended hand.

"Eew," they both mutter, cleaning their hands on their pants and turning to glare at me again. And now I think they're coming towards me, so is the Chief.

"Is it just me or do I see a romantic triangle in the future of these three?" Observes Emmett with a chuckle. I frown, straightening to full attention. "Seems like your little Princess' just turned eight but she's all ready popular."

"Shut up Emmett." I mutter as Chief Swan reaches earshot.

The Chief clears his throat and extends his hand to me. "Hello son," He greets.

"Chief Swan." I take his hand and shake it firmly.

"Strong arm you've got there," He mumbles appreciatively. I smile. "Thank you," He says, sounding like his arm is being forced and tries again. "Thank you for coming today. This means the world to my daughter."

"No problem, Sir." Surprisingly, I realize I mean it. "Thank you for inviting me, it's my pleasure." Emmett scoffs at my words, which brings the Chief's attention on him. "He's my cousin, Sir, Emmett. He's my footman today..." I shrug. "Emmett, meet Chief Swan."

The Chief looks between the two of us, looking for similarities and finding none, shrugs. Guess he decided it didn't really matter at the end of the day.

"Chief Swan, son." He takes Emmett's stretched hand and they shake firmly on it. "A pleasure. Thank you for doing this too." He seems embarrassed for us.

"Emmett McCarty, Sir, a pleasure." Making sure that the Chief's not looking, I elbow Emmett, but he's a trooper and doesn't let it show. But I know from the sideways look he just gave me that I'll be paying later today. I don't mind, it's worth it. Bring it on, Emmett.

"Jasper!"

"Emmett!"

Our mothers distinct voices call simultaneously and the three of us turned to watch Aunt Alice and my momma approach, seemingly out of breath. Mortification part three, it's not over folks! Stay tuned...

"There you boys are," my momma begins and Aunt Alice finishes, "We've been looking all over the place for you two."

Our group just stood there a moment too long, looking at each other in awkward silence, before my mother finally elbowed me hard enough to get my attention. Right, that's my cue.

"Uh... Chief Swan," I mumble. "Allow me to introduce my momma, Rosalie Hale and my aunt, Alice McCarty. Momma, Aunty Alice, this is Chief Swan, Bella's Pops and the one that extended the invitation."

"Chief Swan, we spoke on the phone yesterday..."

"Ah... Yes, of course," The Chief replied, remembering. "I remember thinking you had such a young voice!"

"Oh, you flatter me too much," My momma said, gleefully giggling. "But really, thank you for inviting my son over." It took nearly all of Emmett's and my self control not to roll our eyes. The Chief had won her over. _Traitor_, I thought affectionally.

"Not at all!" Chief Swan exclaimed with a chuckle. "It's not a problem at all, after all, he's the one doing me a favor!" The "adults" laughed at this, while us kids tried to blend into the background.

"And we are more than pleased to be able to be of service, aren't we boys?" Aunt Alice, who had stayed quite up until now pressed. We cringed.

"Yes, ma'am," Emmett and I chourousd before we got our asses handed to us later down the day.

"Ha ha," Chief Swan chuckled. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance then, both of you ladies..."

"The pleasure is all ours, Chief Swan," My Aunt assured him.

"You sure have a lovely home, Sir," Meanwhile, my momma complimented.

"Thank you," He chuckled. "Really, both of you ought to just call me Charlie. But you two," he adds, looking between Emmett and I, "you better call me Chief or Sir, understood."

"Yes, Sir," we answered readily as our mommas laughed.

"Charlie, there you are!" Interrupted a frustrated voice.

"Oh, Renee!" The Chief motioned over, "Come on over and meet the enchanting mother to our Prince Charming and his Aunt and Cousin."

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p>After the awkward introductions were done and over with Renee, Bella's mother and the Chief's ex-wife, sent Emmett and I on the epic search of finding our missing birthday girl, once the adult party had exhausted their resources. So far, it hasn't been an easy task tracking down our Princess, very unsuccessful, in fact. Every few feet I'd get stopped or poked by blushing, giggling girls and being the gentleman I've been raised to be, I spent my time indulging them.<p>

Albeit, no more kisses were going to be stolen from me today, if I had any say so on it, and I did. Meaning no more "accidentally" tripping little ladies were gonna hoodwink me into giving them an opening. Still, there were a few very persistent ones that kept trying to steer away from, one by the name of Lauren and the other by the name of Jessica.

Once I had had enough and finally escaped the throng of swooning toddlers, thanks to their shinny new toy in the form of one Emmett McCarty, I found myself scanning everywhere for any sighting of Bella and came up short once again.

I had already looked under all the tables and found no sight of her. There were two tables set for the adults and four set for the kids; two tables to share between the twelve girls and another two to share between the twelve boys.

There hadn't been any sight of her near the vanity area where a tarp had been stocked with twelve white miniature vanities with an immense assortment of make-up and a trunk full of outfits of all kind. Everything any girl would need to play make-over time. Somehow I had expected not to find Bella there. Honestly, she didn't seem the type to get overly hyped about things like make-up and clothes. Thus, I kept searching.

Renee and I didn't find her in any of the rooms inside the Chief's home, nor the most likely place, the library. They had an impressive library. By now, as you can imagine, we were growing worried, given that there were few places to search for Bella.

"Where are you Bella?" I muttered under my breath, growing frustrated with myself. Racking a hand through my now messy hawk, I looked to the sky for some... illumination... that came in the form of a tug... a _tug_?

Looking down and expecting to see Bella's brown eyes, I am disappointed. Instead, I meet a pair of hazel, kind eyes behind red, squared spectacles that belong to a girl who's similar in demeanor and stature to Bella. Only, she's dressed in a blue dress that hints at her being _Cinderella_.

"Hi," she says shyly. "I'm Angela, but I'm _Cinderella_ today." I guessed right.

"Hello there, Angela," I reply, trying and almost failing to keep the edge of frustration from showing in my voice.

"Um... _P-prince Charming_?" Angela stutters out. _What now?_ The one thing, I've noticed, toddlers lack is intuition. I try to smile encouragingly for her to proceed, thinking she has some kind of absurd request of this here _Prince Charming_. "Are you looking for Bella?"

"Why, yes I am, Angela." To say I'm surprised and impressed by her directness is an understatement. "Do you know where she's hiding?"

"I'm her best friend, you know?" She tells me, as if that explained everything. "We had a sleepover and she told me all about you."

"That's great," I manage, disappointed once again. "I hope she told you nice things about me." Angela nods. _What am I doing? _This is going nowhere fast.

Just as I'm thinking this, Angela's looking at me like she can't believe her own eyes at the sight of me. But her mind seems to work like a one way train that allows for no detours.

"Have you checked the lake?" She asks me, like I'm stupid or something for not having checked there first. I didn't even know they had a lake.

"No... I haven't..."

"I told you so, I'm her best friend," Angela gloats, blushing bashfully.

"I didn't doubt you for a second," I tell her honest and ruffle her hair. I like her, and I like that Bella has someone like her for a friend. As for those other two... I'll have to see. "So you think she's been there all this time, Angela?"

"That's our favorite spot!" Angela explains gleefully. "We always have peeknicks there."

"Oh, really?" She nods enthusiastically. "Do you think you can show me where it is?" I ask hopefully. "Please?"

Angela scrutinizes me for the longest time before uncertainly saying, "I guess if it's _you _it's okay... and you said please. Mommy always tells me that's the magic word that can get you _anything_!" _She's too adorable_, I think. I smile, trying to portray the eager image of innocence.

"And I promise to keep this place a secret if you ask me to," I add for good measure. And I know I've hit the jackpot as Angela beams up at me, nodding. "Okay, it's our secret," I promise.

"Follow me," she whispers conspiratorially. "This way."

"Here we go..." I whisper as I look around us to make sure no one's noticed us. All part of playing the part. Seeing that no one is paying us any mind, I follow Angela to a little clearing behind the Chief's home and we vanish out of sight.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p>Five minutes into following Angela through the whole in the wall, in a manner of speaking, and I'm beginning to think that the girl's been pulling my leg all along.<p>

Honestly, we keep walking further and further into this thicket of shrubs and trees and I have no idea where this little girl is taking me. If it wasn't for the fact that she's more than half my size and a kid, which makes it very unlikely, I'd suspect that this would be around the time were she turns around and tells me that she's sorry, but she has to kill me.

"Are we getting close?" I ask her quietly, which makes her stop suddenly, nearly making me run her over.

"Don't scare me!" She hisses, rounding up on me.

"Sorry, sorry..." I plead, hands up in surrender. "Are we?" Angela rolls her eyes at me, shrugs, and turns around without so much as an answer. "O-kay..." I guess that means I'm annoying her.

"You're so slow _Prince Charming_," Angela complains and looks back at me pointedly.

"Sorry," I mouth and try to hasten my pace but the shrubs that stick too close to this well worn path make it nearly impossible for someone my size to make any real progress.

Another minute passes by and-

"Ouch! Shi-" I suddenly groan in pain after receiving a sharp hit to the shin. "Shoot!" I curse, hopping on one leg.

"Angela, you traitor!" Two voices I recently became familiar with accuse.

"What?" Angela asks, sounding hurt and confused by their accusation. "I'm not!"

"Yea-ha!" They insist.

"Jake! Edward! Don't be mean. Leave Angela alone." I identify Bella's reproachful gasp and glance her way. She's a vision of pent up, miniature fury. She'll be a force to be reckoned with when she grows up, that one. "I can't believe you stupid boys kicked _Prince Charming_!" _Neither can I, for that matter. _

"What?" Edward speaks up nervously. Apparently, they have the decency to look bashful under her glare.

"Yeah, he had it coming!" Jake interjects fervently in their defense. It's official, they have it out for me.

"I'm sorry, _Prince Jasper Charming,_" Bella says, apologizing for her friends and glaring at them. Now I'm in pain but this girl is making me want to laugh at the same time, this is crazy. "Are you okay?"

"I'm all right, Bella," I say as I smirk at the boys and pretend to lean on Bella, who's blushing madly by now. The scowl at me. "Just, let me take a moment and the pain will go away..."

"Should I kiss it better?" Bella asks sincerely, her little face contorted in concern. Too bad I'm trying not to laugh, Edward and Jake's faces right now are _priceless _with incredulity. "Like my mommy does? I know the song, pain, pain go away too..."

"No way Belly!" Jake intervenes. "You never do that for me!"

"Or me!" Agrees Edward.

"Why him?" Jake pouts angrily, clearly on the verge of a temper tantrum. Only now I notice that Jake actually looks younger than these three, maybe a year or two younger.

"Because he's my_ Prince Charming_," Bella informs him simply, like it's the most obvious reason in the world.

"You!" Jake says, pointing angrily at me. My brow arches in question. He proceeds. "Bella's mine. Leave her alone." _You know, buddy, I'm not the problem here... _I tell him silently, trying to keep the smirk off my face. These kiddies are too funny.

"Jake, what did uncle Billy say about pointing?" Bella asks.

"That it's not nice," Jake responds begrudgingly, eyes downcast as they begin to brim with tears. After being chastised by the girl he likes, can't blame the poor kid. Still, they continued to gape at her as she turned her back on them once more to tend to me.

"Uh... I'm doing good here, Bella, really," I put in quickly, before more fuel is added to the fire. "You should fix things with your friends..."

"But they were mean to you," Bella points out, getting this stubborn look on her face.

"It was only a suggestion."

"I don't want to."

"You're the birthday girl..." Bella beams at me like I've just gotten with the program.

"Come here Jake," Angela sooths and little Jake goes willingly, swiping at his runny nose with his arm as Edward puts an arm around his "frenemmy". "It's okay, Belly's just made a new friend, it's all..."

"But- But- But..." he stutters between sobs, "I dunn like 'im. He's meanb..."

"I know..." Angela consoles. "But he'll be Belly's friend just for today, did you know?" Jake shakes his head. "Well, it's just for today."

"Really?" he asks hopefully, his face showing that he's seen the light at the end of the dark tunnel.

"Really, really."

"I guess if it's just for today..." Edward muses. "Right, Jake?"

"Right."

"Well..." I say, clapping my hands together. "What do you all say we get back to the party?" I ask. "You still owe me a dance Princess Swan."

"Okay," Bella squealed excitedly with a little hop that made the ringlets of her hair scatter and gather like a halo around her for the span of a moment.

"Okay," Edward and Jake echoed with little to no enthusiasm. Meanwhile, Angela simply nodded her consent and started leading the way with Jake holding her hand and Edward following close behind.

That left Bella and I to follow. Looking to Bella, I motioned with my hand.

"After you." A gentleman 'til the end.

As I follow behind Bella and the chatty toddlers ahead, I take out my phone and send a quick text to Emmett, saying:

_The Little Swan is on her way. Tell Momma Swan for me?_

_Thanks, Cuz._

* * *

><p><em>oOo<em>

* * *

><p>A moment later, my phone buzzes and I smile, shaking my head as I read:<p>

_The Little Swan is Flying. I repeat, The Little Swan is Flying._

_Np, Cuz._

* * *

><p><em><strong>oOo<strong>_

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **Well, there you lovely folks go... It seems like this arch of Bella's birthday is taking longer than I anticipated! Nonetheless, I hope you all enjoyed it. I surely have enjoyed writing it. Leave me a comment, let me know your thoughts? They kind of inspire me...  
><em>


	5. Foray

_**Once Upon a Time;**_

_"Well..." I say, clapping my hands together. "What do you all say we get back to the party?" I ask. "You still owe me a dance Princess Swan."_

_"Okay," Bella squealed excitedly with a little hop that made the ringlets of her hair scatter and gather like a halo around her for the span of a moment._

_"After you." A gentleman 'til the end._

The Little Swan is Flying. I repeat, The Little Swan is Flying.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Scouting for Prince Charming<strong>

**Tale V:**

_**Foray **_

Fresh out of my relaxing shower I make my way into my bedroom, dropping my damp towel onto the wooden floor, and begin rummaging through my husband's drawers in search of my favorite night shirt of his. It's white, old, soft from too many washes, and sporting a hole that, on me, showcases my navel.

"Aha!" I exclaim joyously as I find it, I knew I had washed it. I had been looking for it for the past two nights to no success and a lot of bickering. No wonder, since I found it on the drawer that's _only_ supposed to hold his socks.

Really, I roll my eyes at this and smile. _I should have just looked where the shirt wasn't supposed to be in the first place_, I think, _that's what happens when I let _him _put away his own laundry_.

Next, I search my drawers for some underwear and end up putting on a comfy black cotton number, which I put on immediately. After a short moment of debating whether or not to wear a bra, I opt not to and pull the night shirt over my head. Now I'm almost ready.

Humming to myself and passing a comb through my damp hair, I stare at my reflection and beam. I can't help it. I see the bliss I feel inside buzzing through every pore of my five feet, eight inches body, giving my body a glow that even shines through my eyes. That's right, I'm the luckiest woman alive. _How did I get so lucky?_ I sigh contentedly.

Every day I get to wake up next to my husband or to the giggling of our children, I feel like I'm dreaming or living in an alternate reality that only allows for happy endings. It just seems so _unreal_ that I keep myself in a state of constant denial. When everything I experience in a day to day basis seems like make believe, can you blame me?

My life, ever since seven years ago, has been nothing but surreal. Like a real life fairytale. _Who would have thought…_ I muse as I head down the hallway to check on the twins. Stopping just beside the nursery door, I hear my husband's distinct voice telling our son and daughter something that I can't quite make out. I try to listen in but can't quite make it out, since I'm getting distracted...

Okay, I'll admit, after seven years of marriage, I still can't understand the effects his low, husky voice has over my body when he's simply whispering… it's like he can make the most innocent of conversations seem obscene.

Like now, I know he's telling our children a bedtime story, since it's Saturday and his night to tuck them in, but I really can't help it as I start to let my mind wander and remember what that mouth is capable of doing during our most intimate moments…

Whimpering, I shake my head and smirk as I come back to the here and now before I do something embarrassing in front of our innocent children. Not that he would protest, no, he'd take it in stride, audience or no audience. It won't even matter to him that we're doing something 'inappropriate' in front of our kids. I chuckled darkly, considering… I mentally slap myself. _Mind out of the gutter!_

Again, I realize I still haven't found out what bedtime story he's been telling the kids since he took charge and I went to freshen up. All I know is that whatever it is he's been telling them makes our daughter coo with delight and our son make a disgusted sound. A sound he only makes when kissing girls that are not his sister or his mamma are involved. He's still going through the cooties stage, you know.

Taking a breath, I poke my head through the door, followed by my body, and my breath catches as my husband continues to talk to our children and smiles at me cockily, like he knows what I've been thinking before I revealed myself. Amazing thing is, he probably does. I know, it sounds impossible but I have my reasons behind this assumption.

I smile at him innocently, feeling myself blush and sneer as I see him waging a war within the tempest of his eyes as his gaze hungrily take in what I'm wearing and not wearing. He wants me as much as I want him, I know, because he loves me wearing this sheer shirt as much as I love wearing it. But in the end, our children, who have their backs to the door, looking at their father with looks of expectancy win him over.

He stays put, seated between the two beds on a rocking chair. Restraining myself as my want for him peaks at the blatant knowledge of how much our kids, our treasures, mean to him completely turns me on. I catch his eye, providing him with a sultry look.

Reading the question in his eyes, I put my palm up and wiggle my fingers, signaling that he has five more minutes. With difficulty, I pass by the nursery door en route to the kitchen, still unnoticed by the children and feeling his eyes checking me out, specially my ass. I wiggle it. He's momentarily distracted.

"Daddy!" I hear my son protest, confirming my suspicions. "Why did you stop talking?"

He clears his throat, "Sorry, where was I?"

I chuckle, shaking my head as I round the corner and they fall out of earshot.

Making haste, I open the door to the fridge and smile at all the family pictures and magnets adorning the door as I get the milk and whipped cream out. Shutting the door with my foot, I place everything on the counter near the microwave and rummage around the cabinets for four mugs and a tray.

Next, I look through the kitchen pantry and get out the cocoa and mini marshmallows, and going into my condiments cabinet, I pull aside the cinnamon and almond extract. Everything one needs to make killer hot chocolate.

Pouring the milk into the mugs, I realize that I'm not up for warming each mug individually. Shrugging, I put the four mugs into the microwave and hope that four and a half minutes is enough to get all that milk warmed up. I wait and once the beeping starts I take out the mugs, set them on the tray and get to work.

Pouring a drop of almond extract, followed by two generous spoonful of cocoa, mix it together, swirl a giving amount of whipped cream on top, and sprinkle the cinnamon over to give it the final touch. It's a masterpiece.

Glancing at the kitchen wall clock, I note it is eight forty-five. Meaning, the twins have fifteen minutes to drink their hot chocolate and brush their teeth before turning in, in order to be ready for bed by nine thirty, their bed time. Nothing better to help them knockout like hot chocolate before bed.

Admiring my handiwork, I smile and gather the tray, heading back to the nursery. We've been trying to separate the twins lately, but it's been practically impossible, since they've been sharing everything since birth. Therefore, we reached an agreement with them. If they managed to sleep in their separate rooms during the week, they can share the guest room (the nursery really), which has two separate twin beds, during the weekend, Saturday and Sunday. So far, it's been working for us

"Knock, knock," I say, smiling and entering the nursery, while avoiding my husband's searing gaze. "Time for hot chocolate." And not a distraction.

"Mommy!" my children squeal delightedly as they turn to face me, jumping excitedly on their beds. "Chocolate, chocolate!" they chant, fist pumping the air.

My husband and I chuckle at their antics. "Carlisle, Esme," I say in light warning and put the tray of mugs on the night table. "What has mommy said about jumping on the bed?"

"Only on weekends!" Carlisle responds cheekily and jumps with more vigor. It takes all of me not to laugh as I notice their father trying to hide his chuckles behind his palm. Still, I manage to give them the _look_, the one that says, _mommy is not in the mood for jokes right now_.

With a pout, they cave and settle down. "That we don't jump on our beds," Esme mutters. My husband mouths a silent '_Wow_' of admiration that makes me blush and winks.

"Very good, Esme," I say, going over to her and presenting her with a green mug of hot chocolate.

"Hey!" Carlisle pouts in protest, instantly feeling neglected.

"Since you're such a good girl you get your hot chocolate first," I point out. Carlisle sulks.

"Yay, my favorite!" she exclaims, glancing triumphantly at her brother. He glares. She sticks her tongue out at him and he looks away, embarrassed. He's inherited my blushing habits, apparently. "Thank you mommy."

"You're welcome sweetheart…" I kiss the crown of her head. She blushes. Her father, still seated on the rocking chair and totally checking me out, and undressing me with his eyes, chuckles. Now, I blush.

"Here you are little man," I chuckle, handing him his hot chocolate in a red mug and ruffle his hair.

"Thank you mommy," he says sheepishly.

"Any time, sweetheart," I tell him.

"Just make sure to think ahead of time, next time you want to try and be disrespectful of your momma," my husband chastises gently as I hand him his hot chocolate on a chocolate and powder blue mug. I love how he backs me up. "Apologize to your momma."

I turn to look at my son as his father watches him fidget. He looks at me, lips pouting and eyes tearing up. It breaks my heart but he needs to learn. I wait.

"Sorry mommy," he whispers, looking at me and whipping his eyes. He looks to his sister, who I note is nodding encouragingly to him, she smiles. He looks back at me to find me smiling. He smiles in return. "Promise I won't do it again. I love you mommy."

"I know baby." I hug him, saying, "And I love you too."

"What about me mommy?" Esme asks, pouting.

"What do you think?" I ask her, going over to her bed and taking her mug I put it on her night table. She squeals, trying to squirm away from my tickling fingers.

"You love me!" she giggles through the tickles.

"And don't you forget it!" I hand her mug back to her. "Here you go."

"What about me?" I hear my husband's baritone ask and I note that he's stopped rocking. I glance over my shoulder and glance at him, he's staring intently at me with hooded eyes and a smirk that should be illegal. I feel my skin Braille and my nipples tighten before peaking, and I'm thankful that I decided to wear panties at least.

"You," I say slowly, licking my lips, "I _adore _you."

The minute descent and ascent of his Adam's Apple tells me his eyes didn't miss anything. He sees right through me and the effects he has over my body, which belongs to him. As true as that is, the same can be said for me and his body, _I _own his body. If I were to allow myself to take into account how white his knuckles have become, I'd say he's gripping that armrest a little too tight, I'd say that's a dead giveaway.

"Not as much as I adore you," he whispers lowly. I shiver. "Hmm…" he hums in appreciation. I bite my lip, trying very hard not to moan.

"That's something that can be discussed…" I mumble, full of implications, "_later_." He shifts on his seat uncomfortably, noticing the path of my gaze checking him out.

As I take in his PJ's, black cotton pants, which are starting to look slightly tight on him, and a soft white tee, he sips his hot chocolate and continues to stare at me over the brim of the mug. Grabbing my own warm mug in my hands and taking a sip, I leer secretly.

Glancing at our kids, I note that they are oblivious to our exchange. _I think I'll tease him a little more…_

"As soon as you're done with your hot chocolates, I want you two to go brush your teeth and get ready for bed," I inform my two angels. "It's almost time for lights out."

"Aww… Mommy!" they pout in protest, making me smile. "But Daddy hasn't finished our bedtime story…" I glance at my husband and notice that he's pouting with them. The three of them look adorable. "Ten more minutes, please?"

"What's this?" I say. Taking their mugs and placing them on the tray as they hand them over and lick their lips, looking content. "You guys are sure being stubborn tonight," I observe. Curious as to what story he's been telling them.

Mommy!" they protest in turn, giggling, as I take a moment to tackle and tickle them, while I make sure to expose more of my thighs than necessary. Their daddy watches with a devilish smile and a hunger for me in his eyes. He knows exactly what I'm doing and he's enjoying it. I concentrate on Carlisle and Esme, trying not to lose focus, though he is clearly making it difficult as he adjusts himself.

"Now, what do you say?" I tease, still tickling them mercilessly.

"Ten more minutes!" they beg.

"Yeah, baby." I can hear the smirk on his voice. "Ten more minutes?" I ignore him. Carlisle and Esme giggle, glad that their Daddy is on their side, or so they think. This kind of foreplay is something else.

"What kind of bedtime story has Daddy been telling you two to make you both so stubborn?" I huff suspiciously. They glance at their father, grinning, and, as I glance at my husband, he is also grinning. _Suuuuuuuuspicious_. I raise a questioning brow. He has this look…

"Daddy's and your story mommy!" Esme gushes, finally confessing after another round of merciless tickling.

"Our story now, is it…" I muse, staring at my husband lovingly.

Staring back at me with a similar gaze, he shrugs, smiling. "They wanted to hear it," he explains in a voice that lacks any of the previous innuendo. I love him.

"Yeah!" Carlisle confirms, explaining happily, "Nana and Ai told us it was the best story EVER!"

"Did they now…" I should have known those two where behind this.

"Uh-huh!"

Absent mindedly brushing a hand over my exposed navel and bringing my husband's attention to the rip, he takes a double take and groans.

"What's wrong Daddy?" Esme asks, full of concern. "Does your tummy hurt?"

"Yeah, what's wrong, _Daddy_?" I ask innocently.

"No, sweetheart," he replies contritely. "Daddy just…" he trails off, staring from the rip on the navel of his shirt and down to my thighs. I squirm, shuffling on my feet. "Tired." _Right_.

"Oh…" Esme sounds disappointed.

"Come here," my husband beckons to me in a low growl that only I can distinguish, and I know his patience is growing thin. I smirk and sashay slowly over to him, making sure the gentle glow of the lamps catches my form as I pass them.

"Don't worry, Esme, Daddy can stay up all night if it's for you…"

He gasps, his eyes dilating, Adam's Apple quivering, and his knuckles whitening from trying too hard not to snatch me off my feet and having his wicked way with me right here and right now. _It worked_, I think, giddy. Not only is this old shirt soft, it's practically see-through, indecently so. Meaning, I just gave my husband a peep show that showcased and silhouetted _everything _he already owns but can't touch right now.

"Awesome!" I hear Carlisle say.

As I stand before him he lets out a shaky breath and reaches out a trembling hand to caress my exposed navel that's been teasing him for a long time now. Like always, the shock of his touch, skin to skin, makes me sway and makes his thoughts more than a little muddled.

I shake my head, reminding him that we are not alone. None too gently, he takes both of his hands and places them at my waist, turning me around, and effectively bringing me down to his lap. He twitches under me as he grounds me to him. I gasp.

"We'll get to finish the story…"

"You're such a tease," he whispers on a strained voice and kisses my shoulder. "So immodest and tempting..." I shiver. God only knows how much more self-control I have left before I jump him and show him how immodestly wet and ready I am for him. "Have I told you that I love you today?"

"Only if mommy says it's okay."

"You haven't," I tease quietly. Shaking my head, I giggle, feeling my skin Braille under the warmth of his lips and my eyes close for a fraction of a second. I feel his warm breath at my ear and shiver, before he kisses it.

"Well, I love you, Mrs. Whitlock," he whispers fervently, causing me to tremble as I feel his left hand caressing my thigh. Instantly, I'm breathless and so is he as he places the right hand that's been itching to explore my exposed stomach over my navel once again. I start opening up to him and suddenly, I remember our children are present and they've been talking around us.

"I hope mommy says it's okay…"

"Stop it, Jasper," I chastise. He chuckles and groans silently as I ground myself against him, causing him to bury his face against the nook of my neck to pray for some control.

"Woman, I need you…" He confesses, voice as husky as smoke. I whimper. _Focus, focus… I need to focus._

"And where did Daddy left off before I came in?" I ask my kids in an attempt not to jump my husband. "Later," I whisper to my husband.

"Later won't come to soon…" he pouts.

Esme jumps off her bead and decides to join her Daddy and I on the rocking chair, instead of answering. As I gather her in my arms and set her on my lap, Jasper holds on tight to my waist with both hands. The added weight of Esme is really not helping the situation, I note.

Esme then turns around on my lap, placing her two little hands over my cheeks and giving me a peck on the lips, smiling. "I love you mommy."

"Not fair," I hear Jasper mumble. Esme giggles, having heard her father, and kisses me again. Jasper starts to complain again but I elbow him before he can finish his sentence. He pouts against my neck, still buried there.

"Daddy was taking you to the dance!" Esme finally answers, burying her little hands in my hair. I frown. Was it at the wedding? But that seemed unlikely.

"Hey, I was here first…"

"But I love mommy more!" Esme giggles at her father and Carlisle tries to join us too.

"There's no way," Jasper argues.

"That's right Esme," Carlisle puts in, "I love mommy more!" And so the argument goes with some tickling involved.

Then, I remembered a particularly memorable dance when I was eight and he was fifteen. I blushed lightly at the recollection. I had been such a silly child. As if sensing my thoughts, Jasper chuckles. I elbowed him again.

"Ouch!" he complains. "Esme you're heavy and hurting Daddy…"

"No I'm not!" Esme argued, laughing and Carlisle joined her.

"So which dance?" I asked.

"The one from when you were eight," Carlisle says, confirming my guess. Craning my neck, I glare at my husband.

"What?" he asks defensively, pouting. "They asked." _He looks so damn adorable_, I think resentfully. I sigh. He steals a kiss and I swoon. Damn him to an eternity with me… I giggle maliciously.

"You, Mr. Whitlock, are in big trouble for this," I inform him. He has the decency to pretend to look ashamed and look away, but not before I caught sight of that smirk!

"Ooooh," Carlisle and Esme coo. "Daddy's in trouble."

"So…" I say, glancing between my kids. "Do you want Mommy to tell you her side of the story?"

"Yes!" Carlisle says with glee and Esme echoes it.

"Okay…" I agree. After all, it's a Saturday and staying up after their bedtime hours for one night won't hurt them. "Just this once you get to stay up later than usual."

"Yay!" they celebrate, jumping up and down.

"But you've got to brush your teeth first," I wager. "_And_ you've got to listen to mommy when she says it's lights out once the story is over. Is that understood?" They nodded and hastened to comply, leaving the room in a flurry of giggles and silliness. _I love my family_, I think, snuggling deeper onto my husband's lap.

"You never cease to amaze me," Jasper admits after a moment of silence and good behavior.

"I would hope…" I whisper, feeling myself blush as his hands skim the underside of my breasts. "Hmm.." I hum contently.

"We are back!" Carlisle announces, jumping into bed and startling us. Jasper's hands quickly drop to more innocent places and caresses.

"Ready?" I ask as Esme settles into bed and Jasper goes back to working circles over my hips, slightly distracting me. They nod, warmly settled under their covers. "Here we go… Well, your mommy couldn't believe her eyes… Her Prince Charming had come to her ball just like he had promised, if a little late…"

"She still won't let that one go," Jasper huffs.

"Hush, Daddy," Esme hushed indignantly.

"Mommy speaking," Carlisle finished.

"Sorry,"

"As I was saying…"

Mommy and Daddy had to be lying when they said that Prince Charming was really, _really _coming to my ball, I concluded. That was the only explanation I had for his not being here yet. I had dressed up in this big dress that I didn't like and agreed to this ball for nothing... I hated this.

I was crying now. I hated to cry, but I couldn't help it. Daddy and mommy were trying to calm me down and telling me that he was coming but I couldn't listen to them. What was hurting me most was that I was used to mommy, Renee, lying to me but not Daddy, daddy always told me the truth.

"Liar!" I accused, pointing at daddy. "He's not really coming, is he?" I cried.

"Did you really call him, like I told you?" Renee demanded, accusing Daddy.

"Of- of course," Daddy defended, flustered. I hated it when they fought. I cried harder.

"This is all your fault, Charles Swan!"

"How is this any of my fault?" Daddy reattributed. "I spoke to him and he said he would come, end of story. If he doesn't come, that's on him but I'll be sure to find him later and give him a piece of my mind."

"Ugh!" Renee exclaimed in disgust. "Man! Always solving things with their fists."

"You know what, take care of this. I'll come back when you've stopped accusing me, like always."

"Fine!" Renee hollered after daddy's retreating form. She turned to me then, saying, "Sweetheart, everything will be all right. You'll see, he'll come."

I shook my head, unwilling to believe her words. I wanted to calm down and have a good time, like everyone was doing. Given that I didn't want this party in the first place, watching everyone have fun was beginning to win me over.

Even Edward and Jacob were having fun, after saying that parties for girls couldn't be as fun as parties for boys, though not so much now. They were both looking over me at a respectable distance, pouting because I was crying. For some reason they really hated to see me cry. I tried smiling at them but only more tears came out. I hid my face from them.

Suddenly there was some kind of commotion and this big, big guy was shouting and trying to get everyone's attention. I was about to ignore him when I heard the magic words, "_Prince Jasper Charming_". At these words I found myself bolting up-right and searching for my _Prince_ amongst the crowd with my eyes, coming up short. And then, as if by magic, I saw him step out of nowhere into my field of vision.

I gasped and everyone else did so with me, at least I _think_ so. Suddenly, I felt breathless and lightheaded.

"Bella, darling, are you okay?" I heard Daddy and Mommy ask, but I couldn't speak and so I did the only thing I could, I ignored them. My _Prince _was coming closer and closer… I was holding my breath… He suddenly stopped right before me. I gasped. My eyes were swimming in tears by now from not allowing my brain to breathe properly.

Blushing as I realized that my _Prince _had said something and I hadn't listened to a word, I took a few heavy steps that would bring me closer to him. I needed to reassure myself that I wasn't dreaming and that he was here, at my ball, for real.

"Prince Charming?" I asked breathlessly. He nodded and I trembled with joy as Angela and every single one of my girl classmates gasped. I smiled broadly and remembering every princess movie I had ever seen, I curtsied. I could tell this surprised him. Sure, I was a commoner but I had manners. I shuffled under his scrutiny.

He smiled brilliantly at me, causing my heart to skip a beat. "I'm here to accept your cordial invitation to your grand ball, _Princess Swan_," I tells me. _He called me a Princess!_, I thought, squealing with glee inside. "I hope I'm not too late and that I'm still invited." With that, he bowed at the waist, returning my curtsy.

I think I blushed again, but mainly I was thinking of what to say to him. What would be an appropriate way to tell a _Prince_ that even though you were crying because he was late, you were okay with it? Then, a light bulb went on in my head. I shook my head at my own silliness and stared up at him.

"You're just in time," I tell him with a smile, "Thank you for coming!"

After that, all chaos broke loose and Daddy wouldn't be nice to _Prince Charming_ because I had to go and trip, like always, and ended up kissing _Prince Jasper Charming_! I was so mortified that after defending him I couldn't look him in the eyes and went into hiding.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p>When I was four and my parents were going through their ugly divorce I had discovered this clearing behind Daddy's house that had a little stream with running water and everything. Now, every time I wanted to escape their arguments and cry without anyone finding out I would go there, to my Secret Garden. Only thing was, while I was there I made a friend who helped me dry my tears and gave me some hope. I met Petee, who was six at the time, and we became good friends quickly.<p>

For the longest time this place was his and my secret, until I introduced Angela to it on one of our sleepovers. And soon after, Jacob and Edward followed us without our say so and they were also in on the secret, much to my chagrin. I hated them knowing about it, but I knew they were good at keeping secrets so I allowed it. Besides, it was only on occasions that they were here. And so we made a pact, none of them were allowed into our Secret Garden without me. Also, no one else, beside the five of us was allowed to know about this place.

All of us had kept our pact until today, when Angela brought_ Prince Jasper Charming_ into our Secret Garden without my agreeing. I wanted to be angry at her for bringing him hear and throw a hissy fit, but I couldn't. It felt good, having _Prince Jasper_ know about my Secret Garden. I thought so, even if Jake and Edward didn't agree. Specially when he agreed to keep it a secret without my having to say anything. Now there were six in the know. Petee, Angela, Jacob, Edward, _Prince Jasper_, and myself.

So after much argument between my friends and I, I couldn't believe my ears when _Prince Jasper _told me I still owed him a dance. Even though I hated dancing with a passion, I was never good at my ballet lessons, I couldn't help but agree to give him a dance. When it was _Prince Jasper _asking for a dance, I had to suck it up, after all.

And that is how I now found myself on the dance floor in the arms of my _Prince Jasper _and stepping on his toes with not a care and swaying to the song of _Once Upon a December_ from the movie Anastasia. It was as if nothing else mattered and we were the only ones in the world. I never wanted this feeling to end, even if I had to put up with being the center of attention, something I would have hated under normal circumstances, for a while longer.

I was just thinking this when I felt a tap on my shoulder, followed by a familiar voice asking, "May I have this next dance?" I was to turn and glare at whom ever it was that was interrupting my perfect moment with my _Prince_ when I was met with a pair of all too familiar, smiling blue-gray eyes. I gasped. "Hi Bella, it's been a while." It had. Nearly six months!

Disentangling myself from my _Prince, _I squealed and jumped into the awaiting arms of the one someone I hadn't been expecting to show up at my birthday party. "Petee!" I cooed with glee.

"I'm glad to see you too, Bella," he chuckled, blushing lightly at my nickname for him. "How many times do I have to beg you to call me Peter?"

"No way," I said stubbornly. "To me, you'll always be Petee..."


	6. Knight in Shining Armor

_**Once Upon a Time;**_

_"May I have this next dance?" I was about to turn and glare at whomever it was that was interrupting my perfect moment with my Prince, when I was met with a pair of all too familiar, smiling blue-gray eyes. I gasped. "Hi Bella, it's been a while." It had. Nearly six months!_

_ Disentangling myself from my Prince, I squealed and jumped into the awaiting arms of the one someone I hadn't been expecting to show up at my birthday party. "Petee!" I cooed with glee._

_ "I'm glad to see you too, Bella," he chuckled, blushing lightly at my nickname for him. "How many times do I have to beg you to call me Peter?"_

_ "No way," I said stubbornly. "To me, you'll always be Petee..."_

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Scouting for Prince Charming<strong>

** Tale VI: **

_**Knight in Shining Armor**_

**Peter's PoV**

Left side. _Covered_. Right side. _Covered_. Behind me. _Covered_. Double checking never hurt anyone.

Keeping that in mind, I do a double take, before squeezing my body through the narrow gap between the gate and the fence at the backside of my home. Miraculously, I still fit and manage to reach the other side of our backyard, no man's land. Crouching low, I make a dash for it and approach the furthest corner of the concrete wall that marked the perimeter, which divides my neighborhood from the thicket of trees, and the Swan's residence beyond.

Once again, I make sure to look left, right, and every which way, to ensure I haven't been seen, or followed. Satisfied, I extend my arms to grab onto each opposing wall, forming something of a triangle. As soon as my hands found their hold, I tried to hoist my weight up as much as my upper body strength would allow.

With practiced ease, for I had done this more times than I am willing to admit, my feet leave the ground and I swiftly find my footing. Placing the tips of my Converse's into the overly familiar nooks and cracks of the weather-beaten wall, I sort of climb the rest of the way up, and relying solely on my arms, heave myself one last time. Finally, I am waist high onto the edge of the wall, and soon enough, I'm sitting atop the wide surface of the hedge with my feet dangling off the rim. Feeling overly triumphant, I sit there grinning and wiping imaginary sweat off my forehead.

Now, one last surveying glance to calm the nerves and make absolutely certain that I hadn't, yet, been discovered. Happy, because it looks like I have yet to be missed and, or seen, I lift my legs up and swiveling around, giving my back to the rows of houses before me, and face the awaiting forest, where all the wild flora awaits for my return.

Beaming, I yelped a silent, 'W_hoop, whoop!'_ and felt myself growing impatient, wanting nothing more than to get lost in between the sea of trees down below. Carefully, placing my palms for support onto the flat surface near the edge, I brace myself for the decent, and without putting much thought into the action, I jumped and pushed myself over.

Now safely on the other side and out of sight, I looked around me and smiled, breathing in the freshly, oxygenated air. I've always been the outdoors type. Nothing compared to the wonders found in nature. Closing my eyes, I take a moment and to just listen to the forest _breathe_. Soon, I'm picking out my favorite sounds. The twittering birds, jumping from tree to tree, and singing happily, along with the trees, groaning and creaking under the teasing, playful winds that make them sway. Not to mention the distant but distinct sound of running water... my favorite sound of all.

Opening my eyes once again, I quickly scan every tree in sight. Each and every one of them I have come to recognize, like any old friend I've grown up with. And maybe that's the case. These woods had practically raised and grown along with me. Actually, I had grown as an individual within them as well, and found wisdom, and peace of mind. This place, was, _is_ home.

These woods… ever since I was five, they've always been the place to come to. When I've needed to run away and hide from my life, from my fears, it is here, in this crowd of greens and browns, that I find my comfort and refuge. In more ways than one, it is the only place I feel safe being just me, just Peter. You might wonder, just what might any five year old have going on in their lives, to make them try and run away, and you might even be more surprised by the answer.

At five years old, I found out that within here, it doesn't matter that my life isn't perfect, or that the smile I always show those around me is there in place of tears that never stop falling at night, when I'm in private and alone with my thoughts. None of that matters, because within this wall-less forestry, I can cry, scream, curse, laugh, and just _be,_ without fear of judgment. But best of all, there's this silence that hears and takes all I ever throw at it, without ever telling me I should just suck it up and grow up.

Effortlessly, my eyes find what they had unconsciously been looking for, a well-worn trail. At this juncture, one can tell the grass has seen better days, but has by now resigned to my many wanders along its path. With a hopeful smile and a trembling pitter-patter of the heart, I resolutely take the road most traveled. Letting my quick feet trample over the familiar path and carry me into the heart of my memories of these woods, I pray.

Right now, I am hoping and praying for the impossible. Wishing that _she's_ there, waiting for me in our secret place, like she sometimes does. After all, it had nearly been six months, since the last time I had seen those big, brown eyes, or ran my fingers through her long chocolate hair, and made her laugh, just so I could listen to its sweet sound.

_Can you tell I miss my girl, terribly?_ Also, you might as well know, today's her birthday! Today she's a year closer to me, she's turning eight. She's becoming a big, err, _bigger_ girl, as she would, no doubt, correct. Of course, once October comes and turns the leaves, I'll be eleven myself and another year will be between us. Not that it matters…

How much of a shock, do you think, a five year old might experience upon finding out, by accident, that the people he's always looked up to while growing up, his parents, are not _really _his parents, or at least, one of them isn't? Well, I'll tell you… That five year old might attempt and attempt to go as far into his memories as his still innocent consciousness will allow, trying to find anything, anything at all that might have been there, a clue of sorts, to prepare and save him from the terrible bombshell of truth he'd incidentally stepped on.

And after so much searching and searching, to his great disappointment, he'd finally realize that his childish memories are much too hazy and obscured. Besides, there's not much he could have remembered about being four, three, two, and much less a one year old, try as he might. It is a horrible and frightening feeling, like you are suddenly suffocating, or similar to having a plastic bag placed over your head while being under. You experience a sickening surge of desperation, betrayal, rage, and suddenly, everything you've ever known becomes alien to you… and there's no light above surface, or at the end of that shrinking tunnel.

Eventually, that same five year old would have been so distraught, he would have had no other choice, but to run away to try and escape the moment. His own reasoning leading him to believe that, leaving the place where it all began spiraling might help dull the pain. But of course, just because one runs, it doesn't mean one gets to leave one's thoughts behind, or that when one comes back, one's mess won't be there. Because the mess will be there, waiting to be cleaned up or ignored, and your thoughts will constantly cloud and torment your mind, no matter if you are awake or asleep. Like a never ending cycle of perpetual cynicism.

My parents, Caius and Athenodora Faidon, meant everything to me while growing up. Caius is a man full of ruthless wisdom, strict, and doesn't always know how to say things, without sounding too brusque or downright cruel. I peg that to the fact that he has a hard time expressing his feelings, and also to the fact that he grew up with someone like Jane Faidon for a mother. Grandmother Jane is something else. Actually, I shiver every time I hear her name, or simply think about her. And don't even talk to me about our monthly visits, small doses of Grandma Jane was all our family could handle, please, and I'd say it's one too many. We all dreaded having her eyes constantly scrutinizing our faces, like she wanted to inflict some kind of mental or bodily harm with her glazed gaze alone.

_Scarry, right? And... I've got the Goosie's! _In spite of it all, my father, Caius, turned out better than anyone had the right to hope, considering. Always treating me with kind, warm hands that tried time and time again to convey a message that never seemed to pull through. Until recently. Now I knew the message by heart; _Not to worry, son, I've got your back_. Besides, I can't fault a man who loves his wife as dearly as he, not without seeing the strong points that outweigh the cons.

Athenodora, on the other hand, is ever kind, warm, caring, supportive, and soft spoken, though very firm in here decisions. Meaning, if she says no, there's no way you are getting a yes from her any time soon. In fact, one can say that she is practically the most stubborn woman to ever walk this earth. Caius certainly thinks so. All in all, she's everything a mother should be and a little something extra. Though, I must say, she can't cook to save her life. Caius is the cook in the family and I'm following in his footsteps… much to his and her amusement.

Really, no one outside the family would ever think to doubt that I am theirs, unless they were peavey to that information and, or were told that I was their bastard child. The three of us are fair haired, sporting three varying shades of blond. There is my father, Caius, with his more silver than blond hair, though, he swears he's a blond. Then there's my mother, Athenodora, hers is the color of pure sunlight. And then, there's me, my father's bastard son, seemingly, the perfect mix between the two, resulting in a silver blond that borders on platinum.

Therefore, in the looks department, it's nearly impossible to point out who's trace I don't carry, unless you take a real close look. Even our eyes! Mine were eerily a perfect fifty-fifty between the two, Caius' ceruleans and Athenodora's stormy grays, presumably playing a hand in my own stormy blue-gray eyes. Also, the paleness of our skins, something else we have in common. If I didn't know any better, I'd say I was their miniature in all likelihood.

Now, if we go into behavior… I could keep you here for hours going on and on about the things I do that they also do. All of it must have been learned behavior, I admit. But even so, it's like I've been programmed to be their mini replica. From the way I scratch the back of my neck ,to the way I walk and sometimes speak, there are so many things that I do thoughtlessly that resemble Caius' mannerisms. Athenodora I resemble in much more subtle ways, like how I show affection and kindness, to the way I eat my food. Fries dipped into a smoothie is one of our shared trademarks, for example.

Some times, it's like I don't know where I end and they begin. Which is why I had taken to the news of my being a potential bastard child so hard. That's why, pretending I didn't know anything about Caius' infidelity to Athenodora and not resenting him, was challenging, to say the least. Understanding why Athenodora raised, bathed, fed, loved, and allowed me to live in her home, was beyond me. How could she stand looking at my face, being reminded every single day of her husband's adultery, and still love me like she does? Again, it's beyond me and simply incomprehensible.

I know that I, for one, could not look at my father for days, much less speak to him after I'd found out. As a result, we grew distant and every other word exchanged between us, I took as a personal and direct attack. Always feeling like the way he treated me, looked at me, and the way his body language was executed, spoke volumes of how much he was blaming me for his mistakes. Because, there was no way he didn't regret bringing me into his home to live with him and his wife as if I belonged. That was another thing, why had he told Athenodora of his mistake and then, brought said mistake into their home? And why on earth had she _agreed _to forgive him? _Love?_

None of it made sense… and I couldn't possibly confront them about something I wasn't supposed to know about. So I had tried swallowing all my questions, fears, and insecurities without much success. My questions plagued me, until I thought I was going mad with the knowledge of my family's skeleton in the closet, so to speak. No child, at my age or any age, should go through what I've gone through. I really do not wish my misfortune on anyone, not even my worst enemy. Calling oneself a bastard, is so self degrading, but once one starts, one can never stop, I discovered.

This knowledge, and everything that followed, is what I'd needed to escape the first time I'd found these woods. After overhearing my parents conversation one dreary afternoon, I had stood outside their door, frozen. All thoughts of the cookie jar on top of the refrigerator and the cookies within, or asking for permission to eat said cookies, were completely forgotten. Let's just say, I can't eat a single cookie, to this day, without getting a bad taste in my mouth.

You see, they had been arguing about something… About a woman that wanted to meet me and possibly get to know me. Athenodora had been furious and adamantly against it. I had never heard or been on the receiving end of such cold and harsh articulated tones, like the ones that had been spoken by her that day. I never even knew she could get so hot-blooded while in the midst of an argument. Meanwhile, Caius had been the polar opposite of everything I had grown to expect from him, all calm and collected, while his wife burned in opposition, as if nothing could face him. He'd argued that he didn't feel like the history behind my birth was something to be hidden from me. Therefore, if I wanted, after they'd talked to me, I would be given the choice of meeting my mother or not meeting her.

Ultimately, it would be my choice, as Caius kept pointing out to Athenodora. Voices were raised and in a flurry, tears were shed and curses that never had had a place in our home before, had been uttered. Little by little, it felt like my home, my safe place, was crumbling the louder Athenodora's voice got. She was supposed to be the one that never raised her voice, but then, she had been the one arguing the loudest. Albeit, I wasn't hers to protect, but she was like a mother lioness protecting her young one from the mouth of the hyena.

_"That woman, how dare she? Even if she is his mother, she has no right to try and barge into our lives now, into our home. She can't have my baby, Caius. She will not have your baby, our baby. Promise me, Caius. She just can't, do you understand? Not after she gave him up!"_

_ "Athenodora… I… I'm sorry. I want to side with you on this, but I can't! You give me no choice!"_

_ "I am giving you a choice, you just won't listen, Caius! Sometimes… sometimes I can't help but… _hate _you…"_

_ "How… How can you say that? After all we've been through, how can you look me in the eye and say something like that to me!"_

_ "I don't know! Love, hate, aren't those emotions set on such blurry lines that they end up being confused for the same thing? Maybe, all this time, when I thought I loved you, I've been hating you…"_

_ "I- I think, I think I need to get out of here…"_

_ "Caius, no, please, wait…! Don't leave me, please don't leave me! If you're not with me…"_

_ "What does it matter when you don't even know that you love me?"_

_"I_ know _that I _need _you..."_

_"That's not enough, I'm out of here...  
><em>

_"You promised me!"_

_"I have promised you many things..."_

_"You promised me you'd never leave me... again..."_

_"That time-"_

_"I know."_

_"_I'm_ sorry."_

_"It's okay, as long as you stay..."_

_"It's not! Don't you remember, Athen? I once promised you I'd never threaten you with leaving."_

_"You've promised me many things..."_

_"But I just broke my promise…"_

_"And I just broke mine... For better or for worse, remember, Caius?"_

_"I'm still standing by your side and holding your hand." _

_"Do you really believe we love each other?"_

_"God, I just can't bear to hear such cruel words coming from you..."_

_ "So you're the only one allowed to be cruel?"_

_ "Cruel is the only tone I have… and most of the time, I'm cruel because I just don't know how to get past my embarrassment to express myself properly."_

_ "I know… that's why I fell in love with you… why I still love you."_

_"So you do know-"_

_"No matter how cruel the entire world might think you are, Caius, I know the real you. The one that comes home with his chin on your chest, plagued by their judgement and too probed by their pointing fingers, until I order you to lift it up and tell me what's going on. You, ruthless man, are merely the reflection of a mask, hiding the heart of a filial wolf."_

_"No one has ever seen, or known me as you have." _

_"You don't let many in, my dear."_

_"Should I?"_

_"Not if you wish to keep me..."_

_"Perpetually..." _

_"Masochist."_

_"Why do you think I married you, you impossible woman?"_

_"Because you wanted to support me and-"_

_"I will always support you, you know that."_

_"I know."_

_"Then, you know we need to think about this, Athenodora. We have to tell Peter, no matter what. In the end, it'll ultimately be his decision." _

_ "No."_

_ "Why are you being so Goddamned stubborn, Athen?"_

_"I'm the one that gets to decide for him!"_

_"Be reasonable, for fucks sake!"_

_"I… you can't ask this of me. We can't allow that woman near Peter, not near my baby." _

_ "I can't lose you both as a result-"_

_"Hush, my husband..."_

Unable to listen anymore, or stand my state of total paralysis, I wrenched myself away from my spot outside my parents bedroom door, and ran as fast and far as my feet would take me without really looking where I was going. My blind pain had lead me here, to this wall, which had seemed so imposing to my five year old self. In a way, that had been symbolic, how truly imposing I believed this thick wall to be. Therefore, I had had no other choice but to climb over it and conquer its daunting and taunting enormity.

An hour and a half, that's how long it took me to find a way to climb over this wall. When I had finally done it, I had worked myself into a sweat, scrapped myself something fierce, and shed a lot of blood onto that wall. My physical aches and pains still did not compare to the psychological trauma I had been undergoing. Pushing through the pain, I struggled to stay on top and eventually slid right off the wall and to the other side in a massive and ungraceful heap.

Soon, after another half an hour, I discovered I was too tired to conquer the symbolic impossibility for the second time just yet, and decided to wander. My wandering lead me to a little place that felt like the heart of these flora infiltrated domain and there, I found a quiet place with a creek and somewhere to sit. The whole time I had sat on that little bench, though I had grown lax, I had been on edge. Expecting that at any minute, someone would come and yell at me to get out of their garden, since I most likely didn't have any business being there.

But somehow, the hours flew by and no one came to threaten me into leaving.

Eventually, I had to return home and pretend that I hadn't heard what I had. It wasn't hard, given that I had been so scrapped up, my parents had been too busy patching me up to notice the haunted look in my eyes. Of course, it was obvious who had won the war, but lost the battle. Anyone who knew my mother would have guessed. Athendora never gave in, and as a result, Caius had had no other choice but to abide by her wishes. Which, given that she had forgiven his transgressions, was the smart move to make.

After that day, that perfect paradise that I had discovered beckoned to me every time something went wrong or paralysis took hold of me. Day after day, I returned. And day after day, no one else showed to shoo me away. That secret place became my haven and entirely my own. My glorious oasis.

Many nights after that, I stood awake, wishing I was still ignorant to anything having to do with infidelity and bastard children. Still, I knew enough to become distrustful of the only people I had called family up until that moment. Caius was no longer a hero in my eyes and my mother was no longer _Wonder Woman_. She wasn't that strong, that's what she had showed me when she decided to take my father back after he had failed her so fundamentally. Which opened a chain reaction of trying to find the out the whole truth and coming up to dead ends. Since my so called parents weren't being open about my situation, I went looking for answers elsewhere.

Almost daily fights and confrontations met my efforts, causing me to act out in the only way I thought would get me answers, running away. Even so, no matter how many times I ran away, I would be welcomed back with open arms and something warm to eat and a plaguing prickle of guilt at the pit of my stomach. Thanks and resentment had started to blur everything I had ever seen as black or white, now there were shades of gray because of it.

Even so, I fought through the guilt and the fury, and continued to runaway. Caius and Athenodora continued to smother me with their unconditional love, never blaming me, even when I was in the wrong. Maybe it was because of their own guilt? I never understood. At times, I just wanted to scream for their attention and beg them to blame me for every time I worried them, but seeing the worry and relief in their eyes every time I returned made it impossible. Besides, it was all their fault. Their fault my home had turned into a cage, their fault that I now saw them as strangers, and it was also their fault that I no longer wanted stand by and play the role of their perfect son.

But then, a year into my routine runaway ways, these very forest delivered and bestowed onto me the greatest of gifts any six year old could ever dream of running into, someone to trust, love, and comfort. In return, that someone trusts, loves, and comforts me mutually.

If these woods hadn't been my favorite place in this world already, then that day, the day I met Isabella Swan, they certainly became my favorite place on earth. That day, I had found true comfort in comforting someone else, for a change. It was so much more refreshing, worrying about whether or not the next time I saw her she would have a new scrape due to her clumsier than klutz way. Or fretting over how her parents might make her worry and cry while I wasn't there to comfort her with all their arguing amidst their impending divorce.

Equally, it became exhilarating to know that there was someone else worrying and thinking about me. Someone who actually cared, had never lied to me, never would, and accepted me just the way I am, the good, bad, appealing, and ugly. I couldn't ask for a better friend, she surpassed that.

While getting to know her, it took me less than a month to open up to open up to Bella, to bear out my heart and soul for her to hold and to have. And the fact that I was sharing my sanctuary, my place of refuge with her, which actually was part of her father's property, made it that much more of a special place. Eventually, we christened it, _The Secret Garden._

Two years of knowing Bella and clandestine meetings with her in our _Secret Garden_, I had finally spilled it all out, how I knew that Athenodora isn't my mother and my parents were finally forced to tell me the truth. There was no background story, so I still didn't know who my biological mother was at the time. That day, I remember running faster than even my feet could take me to reach _The Secret Garden _and hopefully find Bella sitting on our bench and reading a book. When I had arrived, I hadn't been disappointed.

It had been as if she'd been attuned to me or something, because, hold and behold, Bella had been there, seated on our bench and reading, ironically, _The Secret Garden_. As soon as her eyes landed on me, sweet six year old Bella dropped her book, coy smile melting, ran towards me, and embraced me as I hugged her fiercely, accepting the comfort she was providing.

Quietly, she waited until I was calm to ask what was wrong. That was the first time I really saw Bella as being older than her years, though I had had my suspicions. We were two of a kind, after all. She had listened, never interrupting, until the very end. When I was done, she told me this;

_"You know, Petee, I'm glad that you're not with your real mommy. How else would I have met you? You know, my teacher, Mrs. Clearwater, she says that a real mommy is the one that gives you a kiss night-night." _

Then she had hugged me tighter than should have been possible for such a little girl and with tears in her eyes told me a secret, as she called it.

_"I'm sorry you have to hurt because of me..." _I had asked her what she'd meant. She'd answered, _"Because I wished I didn't have to be alone, Petee, you were brought to me so I wouldn't be alone… that's what I wished when I saw the twinkle little star falling!" _She could blush like it was nobody's business. _"I don't like to be alone… promise you'll never go away?" _I promised and her tears fell freely as she sobbed, _"I'm really sorry..." _With my heart in a thumping knot, I had tried to sooth her. She's too precious to waist her tears on me, I realized, vowing I would do everything in my power to never be the cause of her tears. Humorously, I realized that I was practically vowing knighthood. Well, since it is Bella, I suppose being her _Knight in Shining Armor_ comes with the territory. I gladly and honorably accept the challenge.

Stunned, was an understatement of how I had felt at her words. Just like that, every fear I had ever had had dissolved away and gave way to a new determination. Since that day, I made it my goal to be the very best at everything I did and stopped the search for my mother. I had kept that up until almost six months ago, which is why I've been too ashamed to see Bella. It had all been one great misunderstanding. And now that that misunderstanding had finally been sorted out… I wished it hadn't. My mom, she knew what she was doing when she withheld the truth from me, I finally recognized. But I had had to find out… that, I don't regret. I just regret the shame my misunderstanding brought…

Shaking my gloomy thoughts away, I pushed them to the back burner for much later. I was on a mission now and nothing else mattered, but the here and now.

I grinned. Rushing in a blur through the familiar trees, flora, and undergrowth, I brushed my fingers along every tree trunk and leaf within reach, laughing as I went. _I was back, I was home! _Soon, soon I would get to see her smiling face and she would ease my pain with one look from those doe, coffee eyes. No longer could I stand the suffocation being away from her had induced in me, I needed my oxygen… my H2O, my nourishment, and Bella was all of this and more. It didn't matter that she was so much younger than me, I _need_ her and I don't know if she even knows or realizes it.

Bella doesn't know this, but the day I met her, I had been visiting these woods with the intention of it being my last time here. However, I had found her crying and alone, intruding in a place I had thought only belonged to me. At first, there had been shock, then indignation, and then, when I noticed how small she was and how heartbroken she sounded while crying, I hadn't known what to do. So I had done what came naturally. I made myself known, introduced myself, and comforted her. Along the way, it seemed being able to provide her with the comfort she needed was enough to give me a reason to stay and exactly what I needed to start healing.

_Love_… Thinking of the word, I blushed and my heart raced ahead, speeding up another notch. Yes, I, Peter Faidon, am in love with Bella Swan, dearly and wholeheartedly. It would be impossible for me not to be, I would think. _What kind of love?_ That, I don't know. I'm only ten years old, after all, even if I don't act like it most of the time. All I know is that the sun shines brighter when I know that she's smiling and that the day turns thunderous when her smile wavers, or she cries. For me, Bella is essential, like oxygen. That's all.

Snapping a twig beneath my bitten up gray Converse, I stop and listen. Yes, _there_, I hear the sound of running water! All I have to do is squeeze myself between those bushes and I'll be able to see her… I just hope that, today, she's smiling brighter than before and not crying.

As I begin to try and get through the thick brushwood, my cheeks begin to feel flushed, and my heart feels like it's being squeezed tightly, and it might burst at any moment and just give out. With a shudder, I finally press through.

Doubled over and heaving for breaths that seem to evade me, I grab onto my knees for support with both hands and close my eyes tightly. Suddenly, I think I'm terrified. _What if she doesn't want to see me and sends me away? What if she sends me away and tells me to never come back? Could I ignore her wish and come back anyway, with my tail between my legs and my head held high? _No, I don't _think _I'm terrified, I _know _ I am.

Slowly, I opened my left eye first, then my right eye, and disappointment washes over me like a tsunami. Everything is as I remembered it, except, there's no grinning, giggling Bella calling out, '_Petee!_', in greeting at my unexpected appearance. Looking left and right, in case I missed anything, I take in the scenery. To the left bank, just as I remember, is the little stream with running water rushing through surrounded by the greenest grass and every color of wild flowers imaginable.

I can't help it, I sigh at the sight. It's just as beautiful and relaxing as I recalled… Bella and I had jumped into this stream to cool ourselves every summer since we'd met, but I had missed this summer. I hope she didn't jump in without me, I've advised her against it. Usually, she's too stubborn to listen to anything I say, but sometimes she's taken my requests into consideration. I can only hope this request was one of the ones she's graced with her consideration.

Straight ahead and to my right, before the great oak tree behind it, there's an ornate, half-moon concrete bench that has seen many afternoons with Bella and I seated on it, chatting away and on occasion, looking at photo albums. The very same bench I had first seen Bella crying on. Across from it, closer to me, there's a round, mosaic concrete table, slash sundial, and another bench. Quarterly, there's more overgrown grass and wild flowers surrounding the table and benches, but also the surrounding area in general.

Walking over to great oak tree, I look to its trunk and beam as I spot that at its hollow, there's a very familiar picnic basket. I'm willing to bet my next month's allowance that, if I lifted the lid, I will find a very soft and worn blue and white checkered picnic blanket. Taking a moment, I take a seat on our bench and placing both of my elbows on the table, I let my head sink in defeat and disappointment as I raked my fingers through my static, silver blond hair.

That was when I noticed the little twig on the table. A languid smile curves my lips. _Bella still remembers..._ Some time ago, when Bella and I had kept missing each other, we'd agreed on placing a twig on the table to mark the hour we'd been at our _Secret Garden _without the other, a signal of sorts. It was effective so we had stuck with it and avoided missing each other so much once we had spotted a steady pattern.

"So she's been heretoday," I murmured contently.

Now, going by the position of twig and judging the distance from its current place to where the sundial is casting its shadow, I would wager that Bella had been here about twenty-two minutes ago.

_What should I do? _I pondered. I was really counting on seeing Bella today. From my seat, I glanced all around me and noticed that all wasn't as I'd remembered. Bella had been busy, I concluded as I noticed that there were tulips, daisies, and other scattered flowers I had missed on my first sweep of our garden. Smiling, I eagerly glanced around, looking for further changes I might have missed the first time around.

There, next to another well worn path leading to her home, was a garden gnome statue with a wheelbarrow filled with a bed of purple Anemone Galilee flowers and across from it, there was another gnome that looked like it was being kidnapped by alien bandits. All in all, there were more and more flowers that hadn't been there before, the last time I'd been here, some I recognized, others I didn't. Bella and Angela, I assume, had done a lovely job.

Suddenly, just as I was crouching down to investigate the kidnapped gnome, I heard distant, joyous screaming and giggling. I frowned. _Was it at all possible that Bella was having a birthday party?_ It didn't sound like her. But then again, her mother _is_ kind of forceful. At least, that's what I had gathered from the many stories Bella had told me about her mother.

_Maybe I should go investigate?_ I contemplated. I'd never personally met her mother before, much less the Chief, but I'm sure I could get away with crashing a party and not being noticed by anyone but Bella, the one that mattered. I think that could work…

Just then, I was aware of being watched and out of the corner of my eyes, I spied what could have passed for glass slippers and a lot of fluffy blue fabric that just might be a dress.

"Pe-Peter?" asked a timid voice. Instantly looking up, I was met by a pair of wide hazel kind eyes behind red, squared spectacles adorning an equally kind and honest looking face that I instantly associated with Angela's. _Thank you Bella for showing me all those pictures,_ I thought, silently expressing my gratitude. Angela offers a tentative smile, which I return.

"Angela?" Even though I am sure and honestly think I can't be wrong in my assumption, I am slightly uncertain.

"How did you…?" I began but she interrupted.

"I'm her best friend," She explained calmly, dismissively. _Of course, silly Peter, you're not the only one that she speaks with. Though you wish you were… _"So you are Peter?" It was more rhetorical than anything so I simply shrugged and nodded an affirmative. _I'll take that as a, 'Yes, I'm Angela'._

"Umm… Angela, what are you holding?" I ask curiously, suddenly realizing that she's holding something.

"Oh…" She's glancing at her hands as if she wonders how, whatever it is that she's holding, got into her hands. "Bella asked me to get it," she explains, not quite saying what it is just yet. "I guess she didn't noticed she'd lost it." She shrugged. "It's her tiara… though, I'm not really sure which _Princess_ she is… I'm _Cinderella_." She beams. That, actually, explains a lot.

I nod slowly. "Ah…" What else could I say?

"So… Peter," Angela started slowly, her eyes focusing on me once again. "Why are you all the way back here? Didn't you come for Bella?"

"That, well…" I scratched the back of my neck self-consciously.

"Are you gonna let her know you are here?" She presses, staring widely at me with those kind, owlish eyes of hers. Silently, I chuckle. The girls growing on me. I can fully see how Bella and her are friends.

"Show me the way?"

"Only if you promise you'll return this to her," She agrees, handing over the tiara.

"I think I can manage."

"Follow me…" I do.

"Angela?" Angela keeps on walking, but glances over her shoulder at me questioningly. "Thank you." She smiles knowingly and turns her eyes back to the road ahead, motioning with her hand dismissively in answer and motions for me to follow once again. Yup, she's definitely growing on me. Bella should totally keep her and I am more than okay with her knowing about out _Secret Garden_.

_Here we go… through the tiny door in the wall, following the white rabbit. _

_I'm late, I'm late!_

_ But maybe, just maybe, the Queen of Hearts won't be saying the words, 'Off with his head!'._

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><p><em><strong>oOo<strong>_

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><p><em><strong>AN: **__So… I hope this was long enough… This was a bit of background story on Petee that might have cleared up just what kind of role he will play in Bella's future and what kind of role he already plays in her past and present. Please, let me know your thoughts or ask away, any questions you might have I will be more than happy to answer._


	7. The Knight, The Princess, and The Prince

_** A/N: **__Given that I remembered something important about this story that I had been aiming for since the very beginning, I decided to make a few arrangements in regard to the ages of my characters. Jasper and Emmett are now fourteen instead of fifteen, meaning they are about to commence ninth grade. Angela and Edward are eight and Bella just turned eight. Jacob is five. Peter is ten but will be turning eleven in October. Charlotte is eleven, going on twelve. James is fifteen, going on sixteen. _

_ Later on I will go back in the story to fix this little changes were I happened to make a comment about their respective ages in the past. Thank you for your patience._

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><p><em><strong>oOo<strong>_

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><p><em><strong>Once Upon a Time;<strong>_

_"Follow me…" I do._

_ "Angela?" Angela keeps on walking, but glances over her shoulder at me questioningly. "Thank you." She smiles knowingly and turns her eyes back to the road ahead, motioning with her hand dismissively in answer and motions for me to follow once again. Yup, she's definitely growing on me. Bella should totally keep her, and I am more than okay with her knowing about out _Secret Garden_._

Here we go… through the tiny door in the wall, following the white rabbit.

I'm late, I'm late!

But maybe, just maybe, the Queen of Hearts won't be saying the words, 'Off with his head!'.

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><p><strong>Scouting for Prince Charming<strong>

** Tale VII:**

_** The Knight, The Princess, and The Prince**_

**Peter's PoV**

** "**Just this way," Angela, just a few steps ahead of me motioned, waving her right hand behind her and disappearing just out of sight.

Brushing aside the vine-like leaves that adorned the little clearing into the forest beyond, just behind the Chief's home, where Angela had just disappeared through, I took a deep breath. _Courage, Peter, courage, _I kept reminding myself, like a sort of mantra. Now that I think about it, this kind of reminds me of Grandmother Willow from the Disney version of Pocahontas. Bella had forced me watch the movie on her portable DVD player way too many times, which is the only reason I could summon that particular scene of Smith brushing Grandmother Willow's branches aside at a time like this.

"Over here," I heard Angela whisper, somewhere to my left.

Turning, I noticed that she had been waiting for me just at the edge of where the posterior wall of the Swan's home ended and their backyard began. Feeling more and more nervous with every step I took, I approached Angela. _Maybe this wasn't such a great idea after all…_

"So, where can I find Bella in this crowd?" I asked nervously as I glanced around the corner and spied a crowd that exceeded two dozen. It wasn't quite a large crowd by any means, but it certainly was more people than I had been expecting there to be.

"That…" Angela glanced at me then. "You'll have to go find her on your own." I understood the message. She had brought me here and that was as far as she was willing to risk it by helping me. "And remember to give her that," She reminded me, pointing at the tiara I was holding on to with my left hand.

I agreed, nodding. "Oh, okay, thank you Angela."

"No problem. It was nice. I got to meet Bella's Petee." I cringed at the use of Bella's nickname for me. Not because Angela was the one saying it, but because it was one of Bella's and my constant argument. I would argue that she shouldn't call me like that, but then she would counterattack with the fact that she had every right to call me that. Given that she had come up with the nickname in the first place, I guess she actually made a valid point."She's always talking about you, you know?"

Maybe it's just me, but when Angela said this and her eyes bore into mine, I swore there was a note of accusation within their dark depths. Like she was challenging me to give her an excuse for my absence and, no doubt, her friend's worried tears and frantic discussions. For a moment, I could do nothing else but hang my head in shame, until I managed to recollect myself.

"I'm here now," I told her resolutely. "That's what matters, don't you think?" I hoped she did.

Angela broke out in a smile then, a genuine one. I beamed, reassured. She liked my answer. I could tell by the way the new light in her eyes shone and sparkled, as if caught by dancing firelight. She approved.

"I should go back…" Angela informed me. Nodding to herself, as if agreeing to something only she could hear she gave a little wave of goodbye. I waved back. Then, she turned the final corner and disappeared into the throng of partygoers.

Watching her go, I exhaled tremulously as my nerves returned full force. No longer was I sure of myself or if this was the right thing to do. What if Bella seriously turned eyes of disgust on me and asked me to leave and never appear before her again? I would be devastated, that's what. This admission did not help my nerves at all. If possible, it felt like they had become wrought wires of distress. I was at my wits ends.

Without putting much further thought into it, I brushed my worries aside and took a deep breath. Letting go, I exhaled in a rush and taking the last corner, just like Angela had, I joined the partygoers into the crowded yard, before I could think twice about it. Swept in by the crowd, it took me a moment of disorientation to understand its flow.

But as soon as my disorientation left me and I took in the sight before me, my breath was taken from me and I gasped at the sight before me. Bella's mother had _clearly_ gone overboard with the planning of this birthday party. I mean, if a giant frosted castle in the middle of the Swan's yard wasn't evidence enough then, surely, the giant sandbox, the scary clown that all the kids were screaming and running away from, the tent full of mini coquettes and costumes, and, my personal favorite, the life ponies would have clued you in.

_Who has ponies at a birthday party? _I mean, unquestionably that's just a little overreaching, wouldn't you say? Apparently the ex Mrs. Swan would get them, one way or another, for her precious little daughter. I could just imagine Bella's mortification as she took in the full vision of what her own mother had orchestrated for her. I couldn't help it, I snickered. Knowing Bella, she had most likely thrown some sort of tantrum and cried.

Not too soon after, a shudder went through me as _Poppsie _the clown and his balloon sword rushed by me, too near for comfort. Apparently, he was running after the kids that were trying to get away from him. Said kids were screaming piercingly and crying to the point of having tears streaming down their faces. I think the poor guy was new into the business and didn't know any better.

It was either that or the guy just didn't have the first clue about kids and how terrifying a clown could be in their eyes, much less about getting on their good side. Clearly, terrifying them, chasing after them, and making them cry were _not _the way. I almost felt bad for the poor guy. _Almost._ After all, I had had my own terrifying experience with a clown once… it had not ended on a happy note. Needless to say, clowns and I don't see eye to eye.

Anyway, as I continued to inspect my surroundings in search of one Bella Swan I noticed the many tables and center tables full of all kinds of junk food. That part wasn't so bad. Neither were the awesome cotton candy and popcorn making machines. I would make sure to visit those later. What _was _horrible was how everything seemed to be pastel colors, with a theme of lilac and blue, making everything look, well, frosted.

But I guess she hadn't had much to work with in the first place. Knowing that Bella didn't like the color pink, Renée would have had to compromise to the closest her daughter had ever come to liking anything relatively close to the color pink -lilac.

_Still… Maybe's 'cause I'm a dude, _I shrugged.

Another thing that was brought to my attention as more and more kids kept passing by me and I remembered Angela's attire was that everyone, and I do mean everyone, was dressed one way or another as some sort of prince or princess. The exceptions were this two that were dressed, for some unknown reason, as a lion and a frog… but to each their own right? In general, this birthday party was a throng of fairytale galore. I shuddered. At least there was some part of the day's thematic that Bella could appreciate…

Bella was, after all, a big fan of every fairytale in existence and the prince' and princess' they depicted, along with their farfetched happily ever after. I'm not a pessimist, honestly, I just know when I'm being lied to and I don't like being lied to.

Sweeping my eyes a second time over each face facing my way in search of Bella's and coming up short, I noticed something curious. There, on one spacious corner was a long line of impatient children waiting for a chance to have their face painted by one of the two people doing the face paint. What was curious about this was the fact that my eyes must be deceiving me because, surely, the person that they were waiting on couldn't be the person that I thought she was.

_That couldn't possibly be Alice Brandon-McCarty, the famous makeup artist and body painter, right? I mean, did Bella know someone as famous as her or her father and mother? _I knew about Alice Brandon-McCarty because my mother had turned me into her fan. Athenodora, my mother, is one of the greatest makeup makers; therefore she knows who her top investors are. It so happens that Alice, the famous Alice, and the company she works under are one of her many consumers. My own mother is that kind of great person. Sure, she can't cook to feed her own family, but she sure is great at mixing and creating the next best thing in the makeup industry.

Unable to stop myself and momentarily dropping my search for Bella, I headed over to the face painting table for a closer inspection. The closer I got, the more and more evidence I found that this person might just be that Alice. All the kids that were being quickly and speedily made-up by her with the cheap makeup the armature makeup artist next to her had brought ended up looking like the work of a professional.

Meaning, each of their little faces were being transformed into topnotch looking lions, tigers, snakes, butterflies, geishas, dogs, and the occasional batman and joker. Each face I glanced at left me speechless, that's how amazing her quick work is and with crappy makeup. Just imagine how much more amazing her work could be when she had the right materials at her disposal. Not to mention, when the makeup she was creating called for it, she was making props out of whatever was at arm's length. Again, amazing, I tell you.

"Alice?" I asked, now a foot from the table she was stationed at. "Alice Brandon?" Alice momentarily stiffened and looked up, meeting my eyes quickly with a smile before going back to work. The woman was beautiful, bordering on petite, and looked rather young for her age. From what I had read and followed up about her, she was in her mid thirties. She sure didn't look it. From her hair to her clothes, it all screamed young, fun, and stylish.

More than anything, I specially loved her raven hair, streaked and highlighted with bold strokes of peacock blues and vibrant violets. It was styled in a longish female version of a Mohawk, right side shaved down to fuzz and left side braided into intricate patterns, meeting up with the spiking hair going down the middle to her nape. She screamed Punk-Rock and it suited her _perfectly_. It kind of reminded me of that dance choreographer, Sonya, and her hairstyle. Only Alice's is half as short and layered.

"Brandon-McCarty to you," She responded cheerfully. Instantly, I knew I liked her.

Her voice was really nice too, and energetic. It had a kind of husky crackle to it, as if keeping quiet and suddenly speaking again had allowed her to get rid of the stored up energy.

"Oh my god," The armature girl next to the Alice Brandon-McCarty gasped. Apparently she knew something about the world she was trying and failing to step into. "No wonder you looked familiar… and your work is so goo- amazing…"

"I was trying to be discreet," I explained sheepishly and tried to ignore the gaping girl. At the same time I was trying to take in more of Alice's face, it wasn't every day one got to see the face behind the amazing makeup and FXs. Therefore, I knew I had to take advantage of the situation. As Alice's face tilted to my left, her right, I noticed that she had a clear eyebrow piercing, just on the arch of her thick, dark penciled right brow. Again, just like her hairstyle, it looked amazing on her and it more than suited her, it completed her overall look.

"How kind of you, but you didn't have to. I'm used to being recognized by now." Still working, Alice glanced up at me, also ignoring her fellow artist and added, "I've been happily married for the past sixteen years, and why is it that everyone keeps on forgetting?"

"I didn't…" Fidgeting on my feet I smiled uneasily as Alice's eyes widened and her face paled upon scrutinizing my face, as if she'd just seen a ghost or something. Apprehensively, I glanced behind me, expecting, I don't know, to maybe find a ghost hovering just over my head or something that could explain the sudden shift in Alice's mood.

"Who are you?" She demanded eerily, the kid before her completely forgotten as her eyes surveyed the crowd behind us. Coming up empty, I guess, her eyes returned to my face. With a deep frown creasing her pretty, pointed features, she continued to stare at me for a long while.

It was then that I realized she'd been waiting for my answer. "Pe- Peter Faidon," I stuttered. "Nice to meet you…" _Was I? _I wasn't so sure anymore_. _

"Sure kid," Alice muttered, deep in thought and scanned the crowd again.

"My mother is Athenodora… the- the makeup designer and CEO of _Faidon Inc._" I added in hopes that this new bit of information would eclipse the strange mood.

"Umm… x'kuz me…" The little boy she'd been transforming into an Avatar spoke up, tugging at Alice's wife beater. Upon being ignored once again, the boy rounded his eyes on me, glared, and stuck out his tongue. I tried to look apologetic, while trying and almost failing to keep from rolling my eyes at him in irritation.

"Hmm… That must me why…" Narrowing her eyes at me, Alice relaxed considerably and finished working on the kid before her. "I've met your mother, she's a wonderful woman." I nodded. "I like getting all my makeup directly from her whenever I can. Get her hot batch, so to speak. How is she?"

"Good, mom is good," I answered hesitantly. Alice talked so fast that it had taken a moment for me to process the fact that she had directed a question at me.

"This was all fun, helping you out and all Gertrude," Alice began, directing her words at the girl next to her. "However, I must get back to the party."

"Yeah, sure, thanks," Gertrude answered, sounding disappointed. However, she kept glancing between her makeup and Alice's works as if she'd never known even that kind of makeup could look like that.

"That's good, Peter," Alice suddenly said, now back in conversation with me. "Tell her hello for me and ask her to call me, will you?"

I agreed. "So, uh, since you're here, do you know Bella?" I couldn't help but ask.

"Bella?" Alice looked confused for a moment. Suddenly her eyes lit up and she smiled at me. "Personally, I don't. I came here with my nephew… he's doing Bella and the Chief a favor…"

Not wanting to ask what kind of favors Bella and the Chief could possibly want from a kid, I bid Alice Brandon-McCarty a farewell and went my separate way after watching her approach a beautiful blond woman. The blond woman had glanced my way and her eyes had widened as her hand had clutched Alice's, looking concerned for her friend. Trying not to let any of that weirdness affect me, I looked away and kept on searching for Bella.

Surveying the crowd, my sense of distaste was put to the taste as I noticed that cousin James was here, attending Bella's birthday party. Meaning, I had to be very careful not to be caught by him, his parents, or his sister, particularly his sister. In other words, this had become a "proceed with caution" territory.

Suddenly uncomfortable, I realized that the little Bella he always mentions as being the most amusing and entertaining little girl ever is actually _my _little Bella and the realization did not sit well with me. It still baffles me that Uncle Marcus and the late Aunt Didyme are in any way related to cruel cousin James. For one thing, they're the most honest people I had ever met in my short life. Something their son is not. But their daughter is, at times… Still, James is, without a doubt, the blackest sheep of our family, I'm afraid to say.

This is the same James that had thrown a two weeks old cat down the window of a fifth floor when we were younger, just to make his little sister cry. Basically, if James couldn't have something, neither could anyone else. That was the lesson behind his actions that dreadful day. Needless to point out, I hated James then, and now I hated him even more. Now, I had the knowledge that he had been close enough to Bella to cause her harm and, or watch her close enough to allow his sick mind to wander into places he had no business wandering into at his age. Just the thought made me shudder in rage.

Next, I saw Edward Masen Fokionas, adopted son to Aro and Sulpicia Fokionas. Edward Masen Fokionas, also known as the "golden" boy, with the highest ransom value somewhere in the billions. Meaning, the boy couldn't go anywhere without a bodyguard, unless his parents were present, in case someone got the bad idea of trying to kidnap the poor boy. The kid had been born, not with a silver spoon, but rather a gold spoon in his mouth, destined for greatness.

When Elizabeth Masen, renowned music producer and Sulpicia's sister had died in an accident along with her CEO husband, leaving little Edward Masen orphaned, Aro had listened to his wife's plea and adopted the three years old boy. Honestly, Aro is a terrifying man and I still find it difficult to imagine him being any kind of parent, specially a good one to poor Edward. But the kid seemed happy and so did his wife, so he couldn't be that awful of a human being. Then again, maybe his wife was a pretentious woman that only cared about money and put on a face while in public.

I mean, it's been rumored that Aunt Didyme had died a year ago and it had been no accident. Apparently, Aro Fokionas had played a hand in his sister's death in order to keep his brother in law, Uncle Marcus, from leaving the country at his wife's request, Aro's sister, back to Greece. Aro, having had his eye on Marcus Faidon since he'd joined his company during his very early twenties, during which time he had met his deceased wife twenty years ago, had argued the cons and pros with the couple, strongly leaning onto the disapproving side of the argument.

And it wasn't because he had any fuzzy feelings about missing his sister now that she was planning to be so far away. Many, and myself included, think that Didyme had been trying to run away from Aro and his power over her and her husband to the point that it had ended with her dead at her brother's hands. Of course, no tangible evidence was ever found. Aro's shadows stretched much too far and wide, that's what his sister's tragedy taught the public.

One could say that Aro is a collector of sorts, rare items were part of the description, and so were people with rare _talents._ Uncle Marcus is one of the latter; he has what many people call _the golden touch_. Basically, it is said that whatever he touches turns to gold. In other words, if Uncle Marcus tells someone to invest somewhere or on something, they would do so just because he had been the one to suggest it.

As you already might have guessed, Uncle Marcus still works for Aro Fokionas, his brother in law, unwilling to heed the rumors or suspect their truth. To Aro, Marcus is an irreplaceable asset to his multibillion making corporation. Though he won't admit it, he knows that all his wealth started increasing the very day Uncle Marcus joined his company. Then again, maybe he had admitted it to himself, since he went as far as killing his own blood to keep him. _Something to think about…_

Aro and his wife were definitely people for me to watch out for, but I wasn't too concerned about bumping into Aro here, of all places. He barely managed to make it for Thanksgiving or Christmas, so there was no way he would be here, right? Slightly appeased, but still on edge, I continued my searching quest.

The more wealthy and known people I kept spying among Bella's guest, the more uneasy I grew. It felt unnatural to realize just how well connected Bella would be some time in the near future. _I guess I should count myself in as one of her future connections, even if she doesn't understand this yet,_ I realized. My parents were not as wealthy as the Masen's and Fokionas', but they had a legacy and a name of their own. And soon, it would also be my legacy and name.

It wasn't until my fourth attempt that I found Bella. She was standing on the tiptoes of a strange boy sporting an awesome faux-hawk in the middle of the yard, dancing in his arms and looking happy. Shaking my head and my sudden jealousy, I approached them as I took in her appearance. Bella looked prettier than I had ever seen her look in a puffy dress of frosty blues and lilac, which is saying something, she always looked pretty. Her hair was all set in big curls down her back, pinned in specific places to make it cascade and the only thing missing was her tiara.

Clutching her tiara with my left hand, I bent at the waist a little, tapped on Bella's shoulder, thanking whoever that the older boy she was dancing hadn't notice me, and spoke, "May I have this next dance?" I couldn't help but smile as Bella turned to me with an upset scowl scrunching her face, clearly, I had interrupted something. I didn't know what to think or how to feel about it yet. "Hi Bella, it's been a while," I greeted in an attempt to distract myself. The understatement of a century, clearly.

Next thing I knew, Bella's eyes clouded with surprise as she, without any sort of hesitation or reservations, calling me by that dreadful nickname of hers and launched herself at me. I hugged her fiercely, remembering once again what it was like to hug her and committing to memory the overwhelming sensation of Bella and her perfume. She smelled like strawberry bubblegum lollipops.

"I'm glad to see you too, Bella," I found myself chuckling. Also, I could feel my ears and cheeks warming as I became aware of the fact that the boy she had been dancing with now had his gaze on us. Next, I whined. "How many times do I have to beg you to call me Peter?"

Bella chuckled, stubborn as always. "No way," she said. "To me, you'll always be Petee..." I wanted to face palm myself when the older boy behind her frowned and, by the looks of it, his mouth opened involuntarily and he spoke.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Jasper's <strong>**PoV**

While dancing with Bella, I kept a wary eye out for Emmett, who kept winking at me each and every time our eyes met. Right now, I hated him. Somehow he had gotten away with wearing that ridiculous outfit without incident, and now he was back to making my life a living hell. Incidentally, he had very indiscreetly told my mother that I was dancing with Bella. And now, my momma and Emmett were watching over Bella and me with twinkling eyes, and in my mother's case, with tears in her blue-yellow eyes. I scowled at them.

Emmett's eyes were twinkling because he was trying very hard not to laugh. On the other hand, my mother was obviously laughing at me, but she was also very proud of me for some reason that I'd never get in my life. My feet were beginning to hurt too… and just so nobody gets the wrong idea, I'm _not _whining. My feet _really_ hurt. What, with wearing these forsaken heels and all. I hated this.

Still, I didn't hate it that much to disappoint Bella. Even if her happiness brought me mortification of the highest caliber, I wanted Bella to enjoy her day to the fullest. I mean, the girl had to be joking or just not in her right mind when she had mentioned that she hadn't want any of this. What eight years old doesn't want to celebrate their birthday? Even if you hate being the center of attention, anyone would still love to have others celebrate their birthday with them, right?

As Bella and I twirled around, dancing to a song from a movie I vaguely remembered, it took all of me not to leave as I noticed my Aunt Alice go pale as she chatted with a boy that had his back to us. _What could that boy be saying to her to upset her so?_ I wondered worriedly. Keeping my eyes on them, I relaxed as my Aunt, still shaken, relaxed and continued to talk more easily with the boy that seemed to be just as on edge as she had been. I guess that whatever he had said to make Aunt Alice react that way must have been unintentional.

Deciding that there was no point in trying to follow a conversation I couldn't even hear, I scanned the crowd for my momma's blond head. I spotted her almost immediately. Just ten feet away from were Aunt Alice had volunteered to help an amateur makeup artist speed up the process of her services and appease her impatient clientele of toddlers. They were, at times, worse than an angry mob, I'd noticed today. My momma was Emmett-less and looking towards Aunt Alice, frowning with worry. Intuitively, I realized that she had witnessed the same exchange between Aunt Alice and that silver haired boy I had. Only, she knew something I didn't.

Next, I found Emmett again. He was also frowning, looking worriedly between his mother and mine as he tried to pay attention to whatever James and Charlotte Faidon-Fokionas were telling him. James and Charlotte Faidon-Fokionas, a pair of brother and sister that attended the same private school we went to, _St. Cullen_. Charlotte is a down to earth sweetheart two or three years younger than us, much unlike her brother James, who is older than us by a year or so and an ass in every imaginable and possible way.

Imagine my unpleasant surprise when I found out that he, not only knew Bella, but knew her well enough to be invited to her birthday party. _What a small world_, I thought scornfully. Deciding that it was not healthy to be scowling as constantly as I had been for the past half hour, I tried to stir my mind away from thoughts of James and my momma's and Aunt's bizarre behavior for the time being.

The latter two being of greater importance, undoubtedly, since I wouldn't go home worrying about James of all people. Though, it couldn't hurt to have a talk with Bella and ask her to stay away from the freak. Vowing to do so later and also find out what all that with my Aunt and that unknown boy had been about, I came back to the here and now…

Around then was when I noticed that I was empty handed and there was no little person stepping on my toes. It felt kinda nice, not being stepped on, but rather empty… almost disappointing, if I were being honest. Bella had let go of me, I summarized. Looking straight ahead, I found her.

Seemingly out of nowhere, she was suddenly engulfing and being engulfed by a blond boy, younger than myself, but still older than herself, into a fierce hug. _What is it with blond kids today? _I wondered. Anyway, Bella's strength knew no bounds and, apparently, would never cease to amaze me. Processing this, I put it on the back burner for later cataloging. The more I got to know and find out about this little girl, the more my intrigue for her grew. It was a slightly unsettling feeling, like the ground I was walking on was constantly in motion.

_PT?_ I thought curiously, thinking back to the name I had detachedly heard her squeal just moments before. Not knowing how to step in and join the conversation, I remained quietly in the background. These two had something about them that made it impossible for me to step into their atmosphere, if that made any sense.

Meanwhile, they kept on talking, while I continued to be just part of the background. I huffed and puffed. Still, neither took notice of me. Apparently, PT had pulled a disappearing act on Bella and she hadn't seen him for a while, but Bella was too happy to see him to hold that against him, much to his great relief. In all, they looked happy to see each other. _Okay, so sue me, I'm being sarcastic and unlike myself, irrational. There's just something about this kid that just rubs me the wrong way! _However, seriously, there was something about their whole exchange that didn't sit well with me.

Trying to ignore the eerie feeling, I tried to make myself know and basically ended up putting my foot in my mouth as I opened my mouth to speak and wished I hadn't.

"I had a pet iguana named _PT_ once," I started, "but I forgot about it after a while. I even forgot to feed it…" I made a face as the horror of what I was saying slowly crept up my spine. _Someone, please, rescue me and make me stop, _I begged to no one in particular. Bella blinked as she glances over her shoulder at me, trying to see where I was going with this. So was I for that matter. PT's brows had disappeared into his hair, whether from surprise or incredulity, I wasn't sure.

Clearing my throat I continued to swallow my foot, "Somehow, its cage had ended up on one corner of my closet that wasn't easy to see, you know?" Bella nodded politely, now facing me. "And then, when I remembered it, I cleaned its cage, fed it, and took it out for a little sunbathing... they usually like that, iguanas." I shrugged. "Anyway, it was a bad idea. I forgot about _PT_ again, and, well, _PT_ petrified under the harsh sunrays and, well, died..." I couldn't believe I had said any of these out loud before I could stop myself. "No more iguanas for me," I chuckled hollowly. I almost covered my mouth with my hands in an attempt to put an end to my blabbering tirade. _Kill me now?_

Where was Emmett when I needed him to dissolve the situation with his good-natured attitude?

In any case, if Emmett hadn't been glancing my way just then and the action hadn't _seemed_ so girly, I might have gone with it. Being as it was... I just allowed the tips of my ears to further warm and flush. This so called "PT" of Bella's glared at me. Unable to blame him, I grimaced apologetically. I mean, I was comparing the guy, who I had never before in my life met, to a _dead _iguana. _How messed up is that?_

Bella in turn, faced me with wide eyes full of disbelieve, and to my utter mortification, with a little snort of sorts doubled over, and began laughing. Bella's laughter had some kind of easing effect on "PT", because he immediately stopped glaring at me. Relieved, I observed as his gaze landed on Bella. His transformation was immediate as he started smiling, basking in the sight of a laughing and flushed Bella. Looking at her, I, too, couldn't help but smile tentatively.

"Not "PT", Jasper," Bella snorted after a while from behind her palm and in between snickering giggles. "It's Petee!" She corrected. I frowned in confusion. Another fit of giggles and I was sure my ears were going to be stained red permanently after today. I would probably deserve it too, no better punishment than wearing your embarrassment for the entire world to see after what I'd done.

Honestly, at first I thought Bella was just somehow trying to pull my leg or something like that. Because for the life of me, I didn't hear any difference from how I had said the name to how Bella was now pronouncing and enunciating it. And still it took an even longer moment for me to process this difference she was trying to point out, and when I did… I was even more ashamed than before!

"_Oh…_" I practically groaned, face palming myself. Bella laughed some more at my expense. Almost not daring, I glance over at "Petee", not "PT". He was staring right back. It took all my guts and then some not to flinch away from his scrutiny, which in turn caused me to fail and notice the easy smile on his face. _Cheeky kid_, I thought, already liking him, somewhat, maybe.._._ _Why is he holding hands with my Prince- I mean, Bella?_

"And don't you forget it," Petee put in begrudgingly, though rather good-naturedly as his ears and cheekbones colored, triggering my own embarrassed blush. This made Bella giggle even more and Petee seemed pleased by this feat he'd accomplished. I don't know if that same sentiment was shared by me, but I think I was beginning to understand why her laughter made him relax and just, well, _content_. Bella had one of those tinkling laughs that engage others into laughing with her, no matter how foul their mood, or, in our case, embarrassing the situation might be.

"Not after all that I won't," I promised in a burble. Like the proper gentleman my mamma has been trying to mold me into, I introduced myself to "Petee". "I'm Jasper, by the way." Now that I had introduced myself, I extended my hand out to "Petee" before I could find another chance to further humiliate myself. So far, today I had failed the gentleman's test thrown at me. Momma will be so disappointed once she found out, not that I plan on mentioning this… whatever _this_ is, ever.

"Nuh-uh!" Bella protested, singsong. "It's _Charming_!" Mortified, I grimaced and was barely able to meet "Petee's" eyes once again. _Oh, God, _I think I just might never be able to see "Petee" eye to eye after all. _Okay, I seriously need to stop doing that,_ I berated myself silently. _It's Petee, that's it. None of this "Petee" crap is needed. _Gathering my wits about me, I glanced at Petee, and when I did, I saw some sort of comradeship and pity forming in his eyes, given our very, painfully similar situations. I grinned.

"Peter." He inclined his head towards Bella, still shaking my hand and saying, "No matter how much she'll try telling you otherwise, don't listen to her. My name's Peter."

"But it _is_ Petee!" Bella pouted. "And you're _Charming_!" We chuckled.

"Well, only if you promise to do the same for me when you hear her trying to tell you otherwise or calling me _that_." It was a fair wager, in my opinion.

"It's a deal." And ideal, if I do say so myself… _I know, I know, spare me. _

I relaxed, knowing that the tension of the moment had been brushed aside by this endearing birthday girl with a knack for snorting and blushing… _adorable_.

"Well, it seems like you two wouldn't mind taking some time to talk and catch up," I acknowledged, excusing myself. "I'll go find my momma…"

"Thanks man-"

"The- the _Queen_ is here?" Bella stuttered out in a squeak, interrupting Peter.

"Yeah…" I bit my lip, trying not to laugh at the dreamy gleam on Bella's face and the obvious confusion showing on Peter's. "If you want, I'll introduce you later?" Bella nodded eagerly and I excused myself once again, leaving her in Peter's care. It seemed like she was in good hands. I frowned at my train of thought… shaking my head, I strutted purposefully to where my momma and Aunt sat chatting animatedly under one of the many tarps providing shade.

"Jasper, my darling!" Aunt Alice greeted with forced cheerfulness, which effectively interrupted whatever it was that my mother, whose back was to me, was about to say. _So they're having a conversation that they don't want me to overhear_, I concluded.

"Aunt Alice, momma," I said suspiciously as my own mother avoided my eyes and Aunt Alice glanced in the general direction of where I had come from. They had been talking about Peter? Glancing behind me, I realized as I watched Peter's back, that he had been the boy Aunt Alice had been talking to when she'd gone pale.

"Drop it Jasper," Aunt Alice sighed as I went to open my mouth. I frowned. I didn't like it. We never kept things from each other. "I don't like it anymore than you do, but there's nothing to say."

Well, if my Aunt and momma wouldn't supply me with the answers, unsuspecting Peter would. Making up my mind, I decided to go back to Bella and Peter and ask him straight out what had happened between my Aunt and him. Maybe whatever he had to say would shine some kind of light to my answerless question. Slowly, I nodded to myself and glanced at my mother. She was looking at something, or more like _someone_ with wide, admiring eyes.

"Is that…" She began, swallowing audibly. Following her line of sight, I understood and stared in awe myself. It just couldn't be… though, I hoped it was.

"Aro Fokionas?" I finished for her, somewhat breathlessly.

My mother and I had one thing in common, apart from our blond heads and great looks, and that was our love for cars, especially sport cars exported from Europe. My mother's obsession came from her being the best female mechanic around and mine came from years of exposure to her obsession. Of course, no one could call themselves an obsessed car aficionado without knowing exactly who Aro Fokionas was, CEO and owner of Volturi Car Imports Inc.

Aro's company was the largest and most renowned exporter of all kinds of European cars and engines known to man. Of course, they sold the American and Japanese brands as well, but they had made their name known by their European beauties. _And what beauties they were. _Every single one of the walls in my room was plastered with posters of their powerful engines, and, or cars. My desk was a cluster of articles revolving around CEO Aro, rumors that blamed him for his sister's death, the death of his wife's sister in order to gain a son, and his growing company.

"What's got you two so stupefied?" Aunt Alice asked somewhere to my right, but I was a little too busy drooling at the sight of the powerful man before me and so was my mother. "I don't see any awesome cars anywhere." She knows us too well, it's sort of scary. Instead of answering, I swallowed.

"I think so," My mother finally managed to answer, her voice sounding far away and slightly hoarse.

"Where, I don't see one?"

I nodded and realizing that my mother couldn't hear me when I did so, said something along the lines of, "Yeah, it could be… but, how?"

"I don't know… just, say it _is_ him?" You and I momma, we are praying for the same thing.

"_It's_ him." _I'll keep my fingers crossed, if you do the same._

"Would the two of you just quit it already and make sense?" Aunt Alice whined exasperated. "I hate it when the two of you get all cryptic on me…" _Garble, garble…. _

Our suspicions were confirmed when a stumbling rush of brown hair swished and launched at our would-be Aro Fokionas, who had been ready for the small launching figure.

"Uncle Aro!" Bella giggled. My momma's and my mouth fell open as "Uncle" Aro, apparently, tickled and hugged Bella tightly, twirling her around. "I can't believe you came!"

"It _is_ him," My mother gasped, disbelieve clearly shinning through. Again, I nodded, not caring if she saw or not, I just couldn't speak. How was it that Bella knew someone as great as Aro Fokionas?

_ Aro Fokionas! _

_Shit… Bella knows and is on hugging terms with Aro Fokionas_? _Just who the hell is she exactly?_

Once again, I found myself wondering about Bella. It was a maddening, never ending loop.

"I wouldn't miss our dear, little Swan's birthday for the world," he informed her, sounding somewhat indignant. "I just had to cancel some _very _important meetings to come see Uncle Aro's little Princess."

"Thank you," Bella breathed bashfully as she blushed redder than I'd seen her blush before.

"Any time Princess." Aro kissed her forehead then, hugging her. "Here's your birthday gift." Aro handed Bella a plum velvet box that more likely than not carried very expensive jewelry.

"Uncle Aro," Bella chastised and Aro had the decency to look sheepish as he pouted. Still she opened the box and gasped. "Thank you." I saw the word form in her mouth, though I never heard it, that's how low her whisper must have been.

"Anything for my future daughter," He beamed. My eyes further widened. "Shall we put it on?" Bella nodded. Delicately, he picked up a beautiful silver, or maybe white gold, bracelet surrounded by charms of clear amber, turquoise, emerald green, and clear emerald green gemstones off the velvet box. As each of the stones caught the light, the four of us gasped, including Bella, and now that I noticed, Peter, so make it five of us.

"Here Peter." Smiling smugly, Aro asked a very stunned Peter to help him put Bella's bracelet on.

"Uh… sure, Uncle Aro," Peter said uncomfortably as he accepted the precious bracelet and did as bided, placing the delicate bracelet on Bella's left wrist as she stretched it out for him. It suited her well.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Aro's PoV<strong>

"Thank you Felix, you can stop the car right here," I informed my chauffer and bodyguard. Gathering and pocketing the plumb velvet box with my future daughter's birthday gift in it, I waited for Felix to open my door. Isabella's gift was a delicately, costume made white gold bracelet, surrounded by charms of clear drops of amber Ichneumon wasp, Campitos turquoise, Malachite, and green tourmaline gemstones off the velvet box.

"Mr. Fokionas, Sir," Felix motioned with his hand for me to exit as he held the door open for me.

Exiting the car I added, "Felix, make sure to bring the car around and park it somewhere it won't get scratched or dented."

"Certainly, Sir," Felix agreed and closed my door behind me, handing my coat over.

"And Felix," I called as he went back to the driver's side and opened the door. "Do come and join the party, I'm sure our little Swan would love to see you there.

"Thank you, Sir," Felix smiled. He doted on Isabella as much as my family did. "I shall do that immediately."

Turning my back to Felix, I followed the sound of laughter. Almost as if on cue, I felt every eye turn to me as I entered everyone's line of vision before they remembered their manners and went back to pretending that they weren't watching me still. I rolled my eyes mentally. I was as human as everyone else, only I had more money than the majority of the people gathered here.

But that didn't mean they should avoid me. Sometimes my wealth annoyed me, especially at moments like this. Sighing, I ignored the stares and locked eyes with my wife, Sulpicia, and quickly realized how much I'd missed her today. I smiled for her the smile I only reserved for her alone and she returned my smile with the smile reserved for me alone.

With my eyes, I asked her where our son was and her eyes, understanding, swept in a general direction to a little over her right, my left. Now, I knew that all I had to do was find Edward's penny colored head and in doing so, I would find Bella. Almost immediately, I found a pouting Edward next to an equally pouting Jacob Black staring after Bella, who was a short distance away from them talking with a silvery-blond young man that I recognized as Peter Faidon, my nephew on my brother-in-law's side and another ash-blond young man, older than Peter, who I did not recognize.

Making a mental note for later, I knew I would request of Felix that he'd find everything he could about the young man and report it back to me. As I got closer to where Bella and the two young men with her were, the older of the two departed to join two women, one blond and the other raven haired with a bizarre hairstyle and seemingly familiar, a short distance away.

Deciding to approach Bella and Peter after a moment of hesitation, I caught the end of Peter's sentence.

"-it was all a huge misunderstanding Bella," he sighed. "I had to right my wrong somehow, Bella…" I frowned, infinitely curious. _When had my nephew started to talk like a little adult?_

"So you're saying that you're not…" Bella trailed off, noticing me. I smiled. She smiled tentatively and glanced worriedly between Peter and myself. Peter remained unawares.

"No, that's not it at all-"

"Greetings, Bella, dear," I interrupted, understanding that whatever it was these two had been talking about wasn't something that Bella wanted me to be in the know. Peter stiffened. Bella stepped around him, looking grateful, and ran the rest of the way up to me as she screamed my name gleefully when I caught her.

Twirling Bella around, I noted that the older boy from before and the two women he had joined, were looking at our exchange with unabashed surprise written all over their faces. _So they know who I am, _I concluded. _Everyone knows who I am, _I thought practically bitterly.

Bella and I exchanged a few words before Peter managed to join us, by which time I had concluded that no one, not even his parents, knew where he was. He was too fidgety… Deciding to make him squirm some more, I asked him to help me out with Isabella's gift and questioned him, in order to suffice my suspicions. I knew I was right the moment my little Swan tried to cover for him.

Not wanting to further embarrass the boy, I let it slide as another interruption in the form of my nephew and son appeared. How I desired for him to call me, as Bella had suggested, Daddy. But alas, it had yet to happen. After all, he was holding some kind of childish vendetta against me, due to his jealousy. He was often not afraid to point out just how much of my attention I devoted to Isabella, not knowing that I was doing it all for him.

The boy was so young and perceptive, and already whipped by the girl's innocent charm, too taken by Bella as was I, admittedly. But I knew my son wasn't the only one, there was that boy, Jacob Black, a no one who didn't know just how bellow Bella's standard her was, at least not yet. Not if I had a say where my boy and this enchanting girl were concerned. And apparently, Peter Faidon… Now, here's a formidable contender.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Jasper's PoV<strong>

_Would it be okay if I went over to Aro Fokionas and started calling him Uncle too? _I wondered bemusedly. _I mean, it looked like he was everyone's Uncle at this party… _

To say I was astounded by this kind of Aro who seemed so ruthless according to every article I had ever read about the man, was an understatement. I mean, looking at Aro, his image never screamed to me at a hint of him ever becoming the parent type. It was kind of surreal, really. This man was just that kind of intimidating.

"I didn't know you knew Bella, Peter," Aro mused, glancing at his nephew with dark eyes. A shiver ran through me, that look was dangerous. Now, this was more up his ally and what I expected to see from this frightening man. On second thought, I don't want Aro Fokionas as an uncle.

"Yeah, it happened on accident," Peter responded mechanically.

"Yeah, I sort of tripped over him and our friendship began," Bella put in nervously.

"That sounds like you, Bella," Aro accepted with a dark chuckle, which made me think that maybe Bella hadn't been lying after all when she'd told me that she had kissed me by accident. Bella flushed. For some reason, I had the strange inkling that Bella had just lied to Aro in order to save Peter. The thankful look Peter exchanged with Bella when Aro wasn't looking told me that I was right in my assumption.

"Are Caius and Athenodora here as well?"

Peter stiffened and I could only assume that Aro had just mentioned his parents.

"Uncle Aro," interrupted a familiar and indignant young voice before Peter could reply. He looked quite relieved. _See what I mean? _"Bella's mine. Let go." My mouth would have unhinged by now if it were at all possible, as I confirmed who had just ordered around Aro Fokionas, the magnanimous and untouchable CEO. Sure enough, it was the brave little soul I had met earlier, the one with a head of bronze.

"Alright, alright, Edward," Chuckled Aro as he placed a pouting Bella on her feet once again. "I'm putting her down, see, happy?"

"Stupid Edward," Bella mumbled, sticking her tongue at Edward and holding hands with Peter. Edward glared at their joined hands. Aro didn't miss it either; still, Peter refused to let go when Bella upon noticing had tried to let go. "You should call Uncle Aro, Daddy already." My eyes bulged, or maybe I was foaming at the corners?

As soon as I could, I needed to find Edward and apologize for every unpleasant thought I had had up to now about him and beg for mercy. I didn't want him going to Daddy to complain about me and be, of all people, on Aro Fokionas' black list without having met the man.

"Bella, Edward, be nice to each other," Aro chastised. "Edward can call me Daddy if he wants… Bella." Aro looked a little too hopeful. Edward looked too bashful. Peter looked outright uncomfortable, but rather strengthened by Bella's touch.

"That's why I'm saying he's being silly…" Poor Edward looked like he was near tears and a little hurt, but somehow he managed to brush past Bella to greet "Uncle", or possibly, "Daddy" Aro.

"Hello, son. Have you been having fun?" Picking Edward up, Aro greeted his son.

"No…" Edward pouted. "It's a _girl _party, you know," He reasoned snidely. Aro tried hard not to chuckle as he gave Edward his best get-ready-to-be chastised face, it didn't work.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Peter's PoV<strong>

I could not believe my eyes; Aro Fokionas was here, at Bella's birthday party of all places! Aro, the man who missed Easter, Mother's Day, Father's Day, Birthdays, Thanksgivings Day, and Christmas was attending the birthday party of an eight years old little girl. Irrational fear for Bella rose within me almost instantly.

_What had this man seen in Bella to make him interested in her? _The moment I heard him call her "my daughter" I knew, he wanted her close and for himself, even if I didn't know _why_. And the sickest part was that he was trying to use his son to get to her. Disturbed, I felt a chill go down my spine.

I had to act quickly and get out of here; he had already asked too many questions… and figuring I needed to act now, before Sulpicia was being added to the mix, a recipe for disaster. Just as my panic was mounting and reaching its peak, my hand collided with something sturdy on my jeans back pocket.

Just like that, I remembered that I had brought Bella a gift, which I had bought with my monthly allowance, after painstakingly saving it for the past five and a half months just to prepare this for her.

"Bella," I mumbled, practically sounding rude, and much too gruff. Bella's surprised brown eyes glanced up at me. "Here, your birthday gift from me to you." I explained. Taking out the rectangular wrapped up gift from my back pocket, and handing it over to Bella as I placed it in her hands.

"Peter, you didn't have to," Bella gasped, smiling adoringly at me. I hated myself right then. Unable to form any kind of heartfelt words, I simply shrugged, uncomfortable now that all eyes were on me once again. "Can I open it?" Bella asked hopefully and I nodded stoically, wishing I could ask her to wait and open it later, when she was alone in her room without a yard filled with all kinds of distractions and unpleasant people.

This wasn't how my handing over her gift was supposed to go. Therefore, I was immensely disappointed as I watched Bella rip the simple wrapping paper open. She deserved better, she always would. And I was beginning to believe, despite the smile that shone through her eyes and curved her lips that I wasn't even cut out to be her _Knight_ after all. I had long ago given up on being her _Prince_.

_Prince' _weren't broken, like I was. They weren't always looking to be rescued by their _Princess_, unlike me. They usually took charge without shying away from anything and defeated whatever entities tried to take their _Princess_ from them. I didn't have the confidence to even _consider_ doing that. Aro Fokionas would be my own personal and proverbial Dragon, guarding the chambers of my enslaved _Princess_ at the tallest tower while I didn't stand a chance in the world to defeat him.

From the start, I had known that wanting to remain at Bella's side was asking for too much. However, knowing what I would be facing, made it that much more _real _and impossible. In spite of it all, I knew Bella Swan would be worth the scorch marks and the missing limbs. I had to fight for her, and that's what I was doing now without even realizing it as I brought Aro's eyes back on me.

_Now I'm Frodo? _I thought bemusedly. _That means that Aro's my Sauron this time around… I seriously need to stop with the Epic analogies. _

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

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><p><strong>Jasper's PoV <strong>

"I should go…" I mumbled to my momma as I thought of what I could do to help the suddenly dejected Peter out. He had obviously evaded Aro up to now, but it wouldn't last for long. He was once again attracting attention to himself, after all.

"Go." My momma nodded, understanding. I went.

"Bro, what's going on?" Emmett asked, falling into step beside me and nearly scaring the hell out of me. "You look like you are on a mission. Is it impossible?"

"Jesus, Emmett!" I exclaimed under my breath, thankfully remembering where we were. "Where the hell did you come from? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?"

"You know… I think I still want Emmett to be my first name. I can't go for the all clichéd thing white people do, calling their kids by their middle name instead of their first name. What is with that? I mean, I know I'm as white as they come and all, but I just don't get it." I chuckled. "As for that heart attack… If I don't have you, who's life am I gonna make miserable?"

I scoffed. "You are so absurd Emmett." Just like that, I went back to loving my cousin again.

"But seriously, what's going on?" He asked again. "I've been stocked for a while listening to that ass, James, talking about how great his di-"

"Emmett!" I hissed. "Children _around_," I pointed out.

"Oh, right, I hadn't noticed." He could be so sarcastic at times. Rolling his eyes he continued, "-ick is and all that trash that I don't care about, when I noticed that my mother, your momma, and you were all stupidly staring after something. So… what is it?"

"Him." Chuckling and shaking my head at my cousin's absurdity, I pointed a finger ahead of us.

"You know, little cuz, it's rude to poin-" Emmett's eyes widened as his eyes focused on the greatness before him and he stopped mid sentence. "Holy shish kabob … is that? Fokionas?" Emmett did always like Aro's last name, said it sounded like a sophisticated variation of the F-bomb with an accent. Remembering this, I snorted. Emmett looked at me slightly alarmed and perplexed, but still sporting a smile with showcased dimples.

"In the flesh…"

"Aro 'effing Fokionas," Emmett murmured in awe.

"In the flesh," I repeated.

"Wow…"

"You said it cuz."

"And little Swan was just, you know, hugging him just a minute ago… Aro 'effing Fokionas."

"More like she launched at him," I pointed out, remembering my shock. It left a bitter taste behind. "And stop repeating his name. You are seriously freaking me out."

"Aro Fokionas…"

"You are an ass."

"Language J.H.," Emmett snickered. "Else, the great Aro Fokionas might hear you, smite you, and kick you out of the party, and you'll only get to meet his able bodyguard Felix. Though, it'll still make a lovely story…"

And talking about Felix… I shook my head, _no way_. That was just too much awesomeness for one day.

"I hate you." _That man just had to be a Felix lookalike… yeah, right, who are you trying to kid, J.H.? There's no way there are two men in this world with similar body mass to Felix._

"I like little Swan," mused Emmett, completely ignoring me and oblivious to my internal rand and the new "guest". "Let's keep her."

I snorted.

"What?" Emmett asked defensively.

"You make her sound like a wet puppy…"

He thought about it. I gaped. "Nah, man, she's still much cuter." I rolled my eyes at him. _Only Emmett._

"Hold it!" Emmett placed his arm across my chest as I made to rush past him, effectively stopping me. I huffed, glaring at him. Wide eyed and pointing, he let it slide as he whispered, "Is that- could he be… Is that _Felix_?"

_So he'd finally noticed. _There was only one way to find out. Taking a hold of Emmett's arm, I pulled him with me.

**oOo**

**Aro's PoV**

"My love," My wife greeted, effectively obliterating my musings as she kissed me. It was one of her sweetest kisses that always left me thirsty for more, thanks to all their promises and implications, but nonetheless a passionate one. Falling apart from her kiss, I was rendered speechless, as always, as I took the moment to admire the flush on her fair cheeks, the effect of _my _kiss on her.

"Hello, wife," I whispered huskily against her cheek, kissing it. Deliciously, she shivered.

"We are in public, Aro Fokionas," Sulpicia chastised with a quiet giggle.

"Don't remind me," I groaned. She giggled, enjoying my misery. "Can we go home now?" I asked hopefully. "We can leave Edward here and get a couple hours to ourselves…"

"Aro!" Sulpicia chastised once again as she hit my forearm and blushed.

"Is that a no?" I pouted like a little school boy. Sulpicia narrowed her eyes at me.

"Thank you!"

Sulpicia and I had been so wrapped up in our own little bubble that we had failed to notice our surroundings.

"Bella and Peter know each other?" My wife asked with a raised brow.

"Apparently so," I nodded.

"Curious…"

"I couldn't agree more… and, before you ask, no, the Faidon's are not here."

"You know me well," My wife complimented, glancing at me with renewed want.

_We should really leave and let these kids be kids for a day, _I thought miserably, knowing that my wife wouldn't agree.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Peter's PoV<strong>

"Peter! How did you get this?" Bella's excited voice asked, bringing me out of my dark thoughts. She was now holding her gift, a leather-bound copy of a very well known novel published in 1865 by Lewis Carroll, or Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, tightly to her chest and staring at me with happy tears in her eyes. "It's _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_, a _limited edition_ version of _Alice's Adventures in Wonderland_…"

She loved it. I felt satisfied and giddy. My simple gift had gotten more of a reaction out of Bella than Aro's expensive jewelry.

"Yeah," I said sheepishly, blushing lightly at the ears. "I found it at this little book store and remembered how much you loved it. And if I remembered correctly, you'd also mentioned that you didn't own a copy of your own," I shrugged, like it wasn't a big deal. Honestly, I had gone to every book store in town looking for it until I found it. "So I got it for you and found a place where they did the binding and got it leather-bound for you. It's customized binding you see?" I further explained. "It's just like the original cover… only it's now done on the leather."

"Thank you!" Bella hugged me tightly, taking my breath away.

"Well, Bella, sweetheart, I didn't know you and my nephew were so well acquainted."

_Shoot, _I would recognize that voice anywhere, especially in nightmares. It was Aunt Sulpicia. Admittedly, the woman was not Aro, but she was scary all on her own without any help from her husband, especially when she was playing the sweet, motherly card on you.

Bella and I turned slowly, like deer caught in the headlights, ready to prance or die trying.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Jasper's PoV<strong>

As my Witch alert went blaring, at the sight of whom I could assumed was Aro's wife after watching them eat each other's faces -_eww_- I realized it was time for Emmett and I to execute our rescue mission.

"Emmett, you grab Peter, and I grab Bella, and we make a run for it," I instructed quickly.

"Why do you get to rescue the beautiful damsel in distress and I have to get stuck with the dude I don't even know?" Emmett whined. I fixed him with a look that made him squirm. "Sheesh, cuz, chill, it was a simple question." I glared at him again. He sighed, "Okay, okay, I'll rescue the little dude."

"Bella, Peter," I cried, making the two and the Witch jump and turn towards us. Said Witch was a beauty, as expected. _How else could she lure you in and suck you dry? It was a miracle Aro hadn't fallen dead at her feet after having his life source sucked out of him by the likes of her. _"My momma's been looking all over the place for you guys, she's been waiting to meet you."

I know I'm being silly, ignore me, but what other chance will I get to be this silly if I don't take the opportunity now?

"And if you don't know Aunt Rose, you sure don't want to get to know her when you've started to know her bad side first," Emmett chimed in, ever so helpful. Though, what he was saying was the truth… _If my momma could read my thoughts right now she would spank me, _I mused nervously.

"Do follow us you two," I requested, grabbing a hold of Bella as Emmett placed an arm around a wide eyed Peter and swayed him along in stride. "Excuse us!" I called to the gaping Fokionas', feeling like I'd just lost ten years of my life.

"You owe Jasper _big _time, little dude," Emmett told Peter quietly once we were out of the Fokionas' earshot.

"Be nice Emmett," I pleaded. "You're gonna scar the poor kid."

"Thanks," Peter mumbled, slightly hoarse and maybe a little dazed.

"That was close," Bella agreed, clutching tightly to my hand. For a moment, I had the strange thought that I never wanted to let go of this small hand in mine.

"No problem little dude," Emmett beamed.

I rolled my eyes. "I can speak for myself, you know, Emmett."

"Just trying to be helpful, cuz…"

"I'm Peter, not 'little dude'," Peter interjected after a moment. And though I wasn't looking at him, I knew he was frowning, just as I know that my name is Jasper Hadrian Whitlock.

"Some would say it's Petee," Bella muttered with a chuckle, looking flushed as she glanced up at the sky.

"Petee it is!" Boomed Emmett gleefully.

"No!" Peter exclaimed in a panic. Bella and I chuckled. "Don't listen to Bella, its Peter," he pleaded. Bella and I were in our way to a plea of laughter.

"Alright, Peter," Emmett amended with a smirk. Peter looked relieved, but not for long as Emmett finished with, "Not Petee." Just as I had suspected he would.

Peter groaned. The three of us, Emmett, Bella, and I roared with laughter and Peter, giving up, joined us a short moment later.

Laughing, that's how Aunt Alice and momma met Bella and Peter. Needless to say, our laugh was infectious and so, they got to meet my momma's best side of her coin that day.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Peter's PoV<strong>

As Jasper and Emmett introduced Bella and I to their mother's (I could not believe Emmett came out of Alice, it just seemed impossible), I realized that Jasper was dressed as _Prince_ _Charming_. Not that I hadn't noticed it before, only, now, I was acknowledging him as so. He might just be the one for Bella.

Glancing at Bella, I knew I couldn't just "hand her over" to Jasper; I would still continue to fight for her heart, until I couldn't any more or she asked me not to.

For now, I knew that the future would see the three of us together Jasper, Bella, and Peter, the Prince, the Princess, and the Knight, prone to change. One way or another, we were tied together, I understood. Even Emmett, though I wasn't sure what kind of role he would play.

Regardless of the warnings, the future, our future, didn't scare me at all.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

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><p><em><strong>AN: **Appease the nervous author here... this one was long and it had loads of info... But you all deserved it, you guys are the best readers ever! Always so patient with me. _

_Well, I think this is it for the birthday scene, though. Drop me a review and let me know your thoughts and questions, I'll be glad to answer and read them. Laters_


	8. A Family Tree

**Scouting for Prince Charming**

**~A Family Tree~**

**Chief Charles, 'Charlie', and Renée Swan, Divorced, Ages 34:**

_Parents to Isabella Swan, doting parents at that. _

_*Charles Swan was the sole heir to the Swan inheritance, including and not limited to the Swan residence, his home, now his daughter's. Basically they are rolling in money, but Charlie still doesn't like flaunting his status, preferring to humbly live as Chief Swan. Charlie's recently started to let go of Renée, and having met a widowed woman by the name of Sue Clearwater, he's working on building up his courage to ask her out. _

_The Swan's connection to the Fokionas came about after Charlie and a team of his squad was asked to become Aro's special security, soon after the whole rumor of Aro's playing a hand in his sister's death blew out. And now that there were only whispers of the rumors and everything had blown out, Aro knows just _who_ Charles Swan and his daughter are. Meaning, he wants the Swan's close at hand. He also believes Renée to be a moron for divorcing Charlie, but to each his own. _

**Isabella Marie Swan, 'Bella', Age 8:**

_Daughter to Chief Charles and Renée Swan (Divorced)_

* * *

><p><strong>Angella Weber, 'Ange', Age 8:<strong>

_Bella's Best Friend since the age of two, they met during their pre-school years, and proceeded to attend the same Kindergarten School, later Middle School._

* * *

><p><strong>Jacob Black, 'Jake', Age 5:<strong>

_Son to Sarah and William, 'Billy', Black, Brother to older sisters Rachel and Rebecca, and Grandson to Ephraim Black_

_*Billy Black is a trusted family friend and Charlie's best friend. Jacob, though he is five, will let know to anyone who is willing to hear, just how much he loves his 'Belly'. You guessed it, his first stage of puppy love._

* * *

><p><strong>Rosalie Hale, 'Rose', Age 29: <strong>

_**Marital Status -Single**_

_Disowned by Hale Family, Mother to Jasper Hadrian Whitlock, Granddaughter to Hadrian Whitlock (Deceased), Pact Sister to Alice Brandon-McCarty, 'Sister In-law' to Jayden McCarty, and 'Aunt' to Emmett McCarty_

_*Rosalie was raped at the age of fifteen, resulting in an unplanned pregnancy. Since, she never married, opting to take care of her son instead. The whereabouts of the father are unknown and so was his name, though she later found out and kept it from her son. (At least, that's the story she told her son)_

_-Not long after Rosalie found out she was pregnant and her parents branded her as the disgrace of her family, she moved in with her kind Grandfather, Hadrian Whitlock, the only one in the family that understood her situation and believed in her. A little over a year after Jasper's birth, Grandpa Whitlock died of a severe stroke, leaving them homeless. _

_That was when Rosalie met the still newlywed and new parents, the McCarty's. Hearing her story, they immediately took to her and her year old son, welcoming her into their family, thrilled to have another playmate for their growing son. They've been a family ever since, with no chance of severing ties any time soon and growing ever closer._

_To this day, Rosalie keeps her family's last name in the hopes that they might come to their senses, look for her and her son, and come knocking at her door. If only to meet her wonderful son, the one blessing in the catastrophe her life had seemed to be those past years. _

**Jasper Hadrian Whitlock, 'J.H.', Age 14:**

_Son to Rosalie Hale, Son to Unknown Father, Great-Grandson to Hadrian Whitlock (Deceased), 'Nephew' to Alice Brandon-McCarty and Jayden McCarty, and 'Cousin' to Emmett McCarty_

_*Jasper's name was given to him by his Great-Grandfather, the late Hadrian Whitlock, who adopted him in the hopes that he would become everything that his biological father was not and his young, fifteen years old mother wished him to be. A boy growing in such strenuous circumstances as his Great-Grandson needs a good, strong name, after all. Besides, his mother did not want him growing with the shadow of her 'disgrace' in his name._

_In all, Rosalie hadn't been able to bring herself to name her own son, given that she hadn't wanted to know the sex until she had no choice. In fact, she had wanted nothing to do with her baby, wanting to just put him up for adoption, since she had been unable to do as her parents had asked and abort the being growing inside her. That was, until the day she gave birth to him and he opened his grey eyes, so like Grandfather Whitlock's, staring right into her blue-yellow eyes, and convicting her into keeping him. _

_Also, Grandpa Whitlock had talked to her into keeping him, knowing and convinced that, if no one else, his Granddaughter had it in her to be the best mother she could to her son in spite of how he was conceived. In the end, he had been right. He always had been._

* * *

><p><strong>Alice Brandon-McCarty, 'Ali-By', Age 36:<strong>

_Wife to Jayden McCarty, Mother to Emmett McCarty, Pact Sister to Rosalie Hale, 'Aunt' to Jasper Hadrian Whitlock_

_*Alice, being the misunderstood black sheep of her own family, moved out of her home at the age of sixteen with her boyfriend and now husband Jayden McCarty, seventeen at the time, and his family. Therefore, when she was twenty-three and a new mom and met Rosalie, she couldn't help but see a shadow of her past in her. After a very explosive argument and many extensive talks later with her husband, he had begrudgingly agreed to accept her decision to take Rosalie and Jasper in._

_As his wife had promised he wouldn't, Jayden never regretted going along with Alice's decision to bring into their home a total stranger, and a teenage mother at that. Their family life had been better off with them in it. It hadn't, as he had suspected it would, put a strain in their marriage. But he should have foreseen it; they had overcome so much in their young age. _

_From opposing Alice's parents, to waiting for his parents to finally accept the fact that Alice wasn't a fling of his youth, but his future and allow them to marry, his and her tremulous rise in careers, her success, his failure and later success, and, lastly, the second best day of his life, finally marrying Alice with his parents blessing. _

**Emmett McCarty, 'Emm', Age 14:**

_Son to Alice Brandon-McCarty and Jayden McCarty, 'Nephew' to Rosalie Hale, and 'Cousin' to Jasper Hadrian Whitlock_

_*Emmett is a faithful and honest friend, always telling it how it is. He's especially faithful to his cousin, whatever might go down, he's got Jasper's back. Even though he is a jokester and prankster, he spends much of his time in deep thought. There's more going up on there than he lets on. _

* * *

><p><strong>Marcus Faidon, Age 43:<strong>

_Widowed Husband to Didyme Fokionas-Faidon_ _(Deceased), Father to James and Charlotte Fokionas-Faidon, Older Brother to Caius Faidon, Brother In-law to Athenodora Faidon and Aro and Sulpicia Fokionas, Uncle to Peter Faidon_

_*Marcus married into the more 'prestigious' Fokinas' family, forsaking his own name. Therefore, his own name was not passed down to his own children. _

**Didyme Fokionas-Faidon (Deceased), Age 40:**

_Wife to Marcus Faidon (Widowed), Mother to James and Charlotte Fokionas-Faidon, Sister to Aro Fokionas, Sister In-law to Caius and Athenodora Faidon and Sulpicia Fokionas, Aunt to Edward Anthony Masen-Fokionas and Peter Faidon_

**James Fokionas-Faidon, 'Jam', Age 16: **

_Son to Marcus Faidon and Didyme Fokinas-Faidon (Deceased), Brother to Charlotte Fokinas-Faidon, Nephew to Caius and Athenodora Faidon and Aro and Sulpicia Fokionas, Cousin to Peter Faidon and Edward Anthony Masen-Fokionas_

_*James has been obsessed with Bella ever since he met her when she was six and he was 14. Despite Bella's wariness towards him, James still believes she's just playing hard to get and actually enjoys his company, though she pretends otherwise. He is very protective of his sister, Charlotte, even though he swears he 'hates' her and could never in a thousand years get along with her._

_No one knows this, and he would deny it if it ever got found out, but after he accidentally killed that baby cat, back when he was seven, in an attempt to keep it away from his sister, he cried himself to sleep that night, because of how bad he felt about it. After all, everyone had readily decided to accept the worse of me. Therefore, he has no choice but to let them continue believing just that. _

**Charlotte Fokionas-Faidon, 'Lottie', Age 12: **

_Daughter to Marcus Faidon and Didyme Fokinas-Faidon (Deceased), Sister to James Fokinas-Faidon, Niece to Caius and Athenodora Faidon and Aro and Sulpicia Fokionas, Cousin to Peter Faidon and Edward Anthony Masen-Fokionas _

_*Charlotte enjoys spending time with her younger cousin, Peter, and hates spending time with her brother, but not really, especially the time that she has to spend time with him. He could be such a boy sometimes…_

* * *

><p><strong>Caius Faidon, Age 36: <strong>

_Husband to Athenodora, Father to Peter Faidon, Younger Brother to Marcus Faidon, and Uncle to James and Charlotte Fokionas-Faidon and, by passage, Edward Anthony Masen-Fokionas_

**Athenodora Faidon, Age 35: **

_Wife to Caius Faidon, Mother to Peter Faidon, and Sister In-law to Marcus Faidon and Didyme Fokinas-Faidon (Deceased), and Aunt to James and Charlotte Fokionas-Faidon and, by passage, Edward Anthony Masen-Fokionas _

**Peter Faidon, 'Petee', Age 10:**

_Son to Caius and Athenodora Faidon, Nephew to Marcus Faidon and Didyme Fokionas-Faidon (Deceased) and, by passage, Aro and Sulpicia Fokionas, and Cousin to James and Charlotte Fokionas-Faidon and, by passage, Edward Anthony Masen-Fokionas_

_*Peter will be turning eleven coming October 13. He's, at the moment and ever since he met Bella, trying to become the Knight Bella needs. Basically his goal in life, even though he hasn't realized it yet, is to become Isabella Swan's perfect man, that's how in love his is or will be with her._

* * *

><p><strong>Aro Fokionas, Age 46<strong>:

_Husband to Sulpicia Fokionas, Uncle and Legal Guardian to Edward Anthony Masen-Fokionas, Brother to Didyme Fokionas-Faidon, Brother In-law to Marcus Faidon and Anthony and Elizabeth Masen (both Deceased), Uncle to James and Charlotte Fokionas-Faidon and, by passage, Peter Faidon _

**Sulpicia Fokionas, 'Sul', Age 47:**

_Wife to Aro Fokionas, Aunt and Legal Guardian to Edward Anthony Masen-Fokionas, Sister to Elizabeth Masen (Deceased), Sister In-law to Anthony Masen (Deceased) and Didyme Fokionas-Faidon (Deceased), Aunt to James and Charlotte Fokionas-Faidon and, by passage, Peter Faidon_

**Edward Anthony Masen-Fokionas, Age 8**:

_Son to Anthony and Elizabeth Masen (both Deceased), Nephew to Aro and Sulpicia Fokionas, Cousin to James and Charlotte Fokionas-Faidon and, by passage, Peter Faidon _

_*Edward is experiencing his second degrees of puppy love by crushing on Isabella Swan. Pulling on her hair and hitting her are part of the few routinely things to grab her attention, and not limited to._

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **__Well, here are the five pages of my story's family tree, let me know if you think I missed anyone. Though I think I did cover everyone. Hopefully, you all found this insightful. _


	9. Wednesday, October 8, 4:38PM

_**Once Upon a Time;**_

_**Peter's PoV**_

_As Jasper and Emmett introduced Bella and I to their mother's (I could not believe Emmett came out of Alice, it just seemed impossible), I realized that Jasper was dressed as _Prince Charming_. Not that I hadn't noticed it before, only, now, I was acknowledging him as so. He might just be the one for Bella._

_ Glancing at Bella, I knew I couldn't just "hand her over" to Jasper; I would still continue to fight for her heart, until I couldn't any more or she asked me not to._

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><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Scouting for Prince Charming<strong>

** Tale VIII:**

_** Wednesday, October 8, 4:38P.M. **_

_Order up! _I thought sarcastically as I presented my guest with a clattering plate of peace offering, a.k.a. food.

"Can't I, _please_, cook us something?" Bella pleaded for the second time this evening. Glancing over at her, I winced slightly at her expression. She was staring with wide, horrified eyes at my failed and third attempt at a decent grilled cheese sandwich, her homework now long forgotten.

"I'm sorry… I- I'll give it another go?"

Honestly, I wasn't even insulted. Cooking just wasn't working for me at the moment. Not that it ever had. The culinary arts and I just aren't a good mix it's all. The plate standing between Bella and I is proof enough of that. With both sides of the outer bread coal black and the cheese so burnt that it had turned an unbecoming shade of unforeseeable brown…

But seriously, it had never before taken me more than three attempts to fix up a relatively edible grilled cheese sandwich! Even a dog willing to eat its own vomit would know that this is not fit for human or canine consumption. With my back to her I walked back into the kitchen and dumped the cindered sandwich in the trash bin with an audible sigh.

_It will be okay, _I told myself, in an attempt to console my dignity. With that, I set about finding more bread and cheese. _Never give up…_

Besides, today has been one of those unforgiving days. Where my luck had decided to run away from me and completely desert me. Hell, today as a whole hadn't been my day! James had doubled his bullying to a new level. And though I've been trying to remain unfazed, the tension of his continuous misdemeanor has begun to take its toll. All because of this little girl's birthday party and she doesn't even know it.

"No!" Bella practically screamed. "Just -just let me do the cooking, _Prin- _Jasper… I _insist_."

Dismayed, I sighed and shook my head. Glancing at Bella, sitting at my kitchen table, over my shoulder from my place just before the stove, I asked dubiously, "Are you sure you're even allowed near a stove at your age?" I mean, I'm all for delegating cooking duties, but I want my house to remain standing and not burnt to cinders. "Because, believe it or not, Bella, even though I'm the worse cook ever, I've never managed to burn down the house before."

At her dubious look, I amended, "Sure, I've set off the smoke detector a couple of times…" The growing alarm in her eyes would be comical were it not true what I was saying. "…_okay_, more than a couple times. But after a few minutes at work the kitchen extractor fan would kick in, do its duty, and with a healthy dose of manual towel fanning, the smoky threat of fire would just go away." I smiled impishly, hoping that would convince her.

"Who do you think keeps Renée and me fed?" Bella retorted belligerently, both hands fisted and at either side of her hips. I fought off the prickling want to cower from her, reminding myself that she was six years my junior and more or less, half my size and not threatening at all, despite what my senses were telling me. "I'm eight you know? It's been almost a whole month now. You were there, remember?"

_Oh, didn't I? Sometimes I wanted to forget I was… _

I rose my hands up in the universal sing of surrender.

"If it wasn't for my cooking I'd probably have a hole for a stomach by now," Bella added thoughtfully. "Renée is twice the bad cook you are…" She looked my way as she mentioned this, smiling placidly.

I scowled. "Fine," I conceded. _What? I'm fourteen and hungry! And she is the one offering to do the cooking… who am I to object? _"Knock yourself out."

"I will," Bella agreed, sounding much too relieved. Giving a sideway glance at the other two failed sandwiches before her and with a pinched look on her face, Bella made her way to our pantry, like she'd done this before and was just picking up where she'd left off.

"Good," I scoffed out. Abandoning the charred mess on the pan, I made sure to quickly trash all of my failed attempts from the past forty-five minutes, and sat myself at the kitchen table, taking the chair across Bella's previous seat.

"I'll watch. Just in case," I added after a moment of watching Bella in begrudging fascination. For some reason she kept fetching more and more things out of the pantries, here and there, all seemingly foreign to my untrained eyes.

Sure, I recognized the pasta and the Alfredo sauce, maybe even the two cloves of garlic she had set aside besides what looked like feta cheese. But I sure didn't have the first clue about any of the spices she was now taking out of the spices cabinet with the aid of a chair that I hadn't even noticed she'd grabbed.

Admittedly, as she started warming up the water, she looked like she knew what she was doing. She was even using the same pot my momma used whenever she cooked pasta and the occasional soup on a rainy day. Meaning, she probably _did _know what she was doing.

Even so, I wouldn't dream about leaving her to her own devices. Slightly bemused and a little amused, I watched as she added some olive oil to the water and began pouring ingredients after ingredients into the now nearly boiling water within the pot.

Seeing as I was getting bored and my homework wasn't going to get done on it's own (believe me, I've tried coercing it into doing so in the past, but it's never worked. Even Hermione Granger had to do hers…) I attempted to get it done. Soon, too distracted by the enticing aromas, I gave up.

Instead, I thought of everything this eight years old girl had changed since the moment she entered my life. By now, I didn't even know if I was happy to have her in my life. One thing was for certain though; tomorrow would be Hell on earth for me at school. James would make sure of that, like he'd been doing ever since he found out at Bella's birthday party that I know and I'm acquainted with Isabella Swan.

Apparently, Bella is the sun, the moon, and the stars as far as James is concerned. I found this out the hard way, from James Faidon Fokionas himself. It all began the Monday following the weekend of Bella's birthday party. Pariah Monday, I called it now, has been the worst day of my life to date. Thanks to James, who had singlehandedly, in seconds, turned me into a social leper along with Emmett.

Apart from Emmett, no one wanted to become part of James' hit list by helping out a friend and becoming one of his targets. Therefore, everyone watched and cheered James on as he humiliated me. This was where Emmett's and my brotherhood got tested. Somehow, we came, we endured, we conquered, and we went without severing our ties. Not that it all ended the very same day it started.

Of course, you've got to understand, St_. Cullen_ is James' playground and domain. And he certainly makes sure we all know and never forget it in all kinds of painful and embarrassing ways. Meaning, it's better that nobody ever crosses him. If he walks past you, unless he directly talks to you, avoid any kind of contact and eye contact.

James is a modern-day tyrant with the right clothes, parents, and friends in higher places to get away with anything and everything. Especially that day, in front of all my peers and friends, he made sure to force my hand by showing the extent of his reign of oppression. If it hadn't been for Emmett's intervention and Charlotte's quick thinking to go get him, I don't want to even think about how that day could have ended differently.

I had been minding my own business, talking among a group of so called close friends, I had been on my way to meet with Emmett at the school gates for off campus lunch when, suddenly, a current of pain shut up my right shoulder and I went down, face first into the dirt.

"Shi-" My vision swam slightly with the shuffling of feet. Laughter reverberated all around me as I struggled to get back on my feet again without losing more face than I already had. However, someone saw to that. Roughly grabbing the collar of my _Star Wars "TRUST ME, I'M A JEDI" _t-shirt someone set me on my converse clad feet and pushed me right into James' left hook. Clearly, not a friend, perhaps a traitor but I doubt it. To my credit, I didn't wince. "What the hell, James?"

The crowd had gone deadly quite… waiting my decapitation, maybe?

"You stay away from my things, beggar boy," James sneered viciously and laughed. Everyone else, following in his lead, laughed with him though they had no idea what he was talking about. Neither did I, for that matter. At my "huh?" face, James elaborated, "That little Swan is mine. Stay away."

"Oh?" _Caveman much? _"You mean Isa-"

"Just keep your distance," James cut in before I could finish. His ears, I noted, scarlet with embarrassment or something.

"It's not like I approached her in the first place," I mumbled out before I could stop myself. I had been doing a lot of that lately.

"What did you say?" He asked threateningly, the veins on his neck throbbing.

"Look, man, I don't want any trouble," I began. "I think this is all a colossal misunderstanding." I paused. James looked confused. _Oops, I'm using big boys' vocabulary._ "A big misunderstanding James," I managed, much too condescendingly for James' taste.

He launched. I dodged. The crowd went wild. Emmett intervened, landing James with a black eye. Next, the school Principal decided to grace us with her perfect bunhead head and demonstrate how magnanimous a woman in her position truly is. Awarding us with a week expulsion for Emmett and I, and a three day expulsion for James. Collateral damage, if you would.

To say the least, our mother's were not happy with us… but that all changed when they heard the true accounts of the story. After fighting the Principal tooth and nail, with some threats here and there, our mothers managed to get us expulsed for just two days.

Yeah, I was gonna get it tomorrow and Friday, not to mention next week. Basically, until school was out for the year or James' decided to move away. Everyone that mattered had witnessed my impromptu fraternization with Bella at the school gates, courtesy of my mother.

"Ta-da!" Bella announced, interrupting my musings.

Coming back to the present, and not a moment too soon, I was staring down at a plate of steaming chicken Alfredo pasta with hungry eyes, if a little mystified, and a bit of drooling. Smacking my lips, I glanced up at Bella, saying, "This looks delicious, Bella." I meant it too. It looked better than anything I'd ever come up with in the kitchen, especially those last three grilled cheeses. _She could even rival my momma in the kitchen!_ I dared to think.

"I hope you like it," Bella whispered shyly and embarrassed as she ducked her head. However, before her hair could cover it, I witnessed that tell-tale blush I was beginning to grow very fond of. Without glancing my way and still a little flustered, she began to enthusiastically dig in.

Shaking my thoughts away, I glanced down at my plate once again and dared to take a bite. "_Delicious_," I practically moaned as the food teased my palatal and dominated my taste buds. Bella, if possible, blushed a brighter hue of that rosy color her skin was so adapt at orchestrating to showcase her every emotion. "I should hire you as my personal chef. Just for the three days my momma is out taking extra shifts," I added, somewhat jokingly but not far from contemplative. She looked happy and rather pleased with herself at this, as she well should. I have never been one to give empty compliments.

The rest of our meal went on in comfortable silence with the occasional small talk about our school day. This brought me back to the reason why Bella was here in the first place. This was the first time since her birthday party that I had seen her, nearly a month later.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><em><strong>Rosalie's PoV<strong>_

_** A few hours earlier…**_

"Eleazar, I gotta go. I need to go pick Jasper up from school!" I called to my boss over my shoulder as I wiped the grease off my hands on a red rag I kept at hand on the back pocket of my jumper. "Thanks for letting me take on a second shift. I'll be back for it as soon as I drop him off."

"Anything for you, Rose, go ahead and take your time," He called back. "Carmen and I got this. Besides, your cars ain't going anywhere. They will still be here when you come back."

"Don't I know it!" I chuckled. "Thanks! Don't let this get too crazy while I'm gone."

With my jumper still on and my hands even more stained, thanks to my feeble attempts, I made a quick grab for my keys and dashed to my car.

_Crap! I'm late and I still need to stop by the grocery store… _I thought as I got into the car and started the ignition. Taking a moment to let the purr of my toy red mustang calm me, I allowed my muscles to loosen up and made a grab for my cell phone.

"Hi momma," Jasper greeted at the other end of the line just as the third ring ended.

"Hi baby!" I greeted, smiling, happy to hear my son's voice after a long day at work with more to come. "Listen, I'm-"

"Running late?" He finished for me.

I smiled diffidently and feeling guilty, apologized, "Yeah, sorry."

"It's okay…" He sighed, clearly disappointed but not surprised. "Anything else?"

"Eleazar offered me an extra shift so I'm taking it," I admitted guiltily. Silence met my confession so hopping to lessen the disappointment I hastened to add, "And I need to make a quick stop by the grocery story before I pick you up…"

"But we were spending the afternoon together," he protested, sounding hurt and let down.

"I know, sweetheart and I'm sorry. Honest." It broke my heart to break my promises to him. Jasper, my one and only son and the one person in my life that demanded nothing more than what I could give him. Just my undivided attention and time when I could provide it and the only person that knew I was greater than the sum of my parts and expected me to keep my word. Something I haven't been doing lately. "You know I'm doing this for you right? I'm sorry…"

"You said that already," He gritted out. "I know momma, but still-"

"I'm sorry to be such a disappointment of a mother to you, Jasper," I mumbled bitterly, fuming. "But I promise I'll make it up to you, okay?

"Fine!" He fumed back, his breathing harsh on the other end. "And just so you know, you _have_ been a disappointment!"

"Fine!" I snarled back and regretted it the next moment. Trying to regain my composure I gripped my phone tighter. After a moment of tensed silence, I said, "Look, I'm sorry, just bare with me a little longer, will you sweetheart?"

"You've been saying that for a while now," He reminded me and the line went dead.

For a moment I was so angry and appalled that my usually understanding son had just hung up on me that I'd been about to call him back, but stopped. I was tired, riled up, and overworked. My son was hurting, and I'd been the cause… knowing this put things into perspective for me in a moment. I allowed it. After all, he's only fourteen and usually one of the most understanding sons anyone could ever ask for. Besides, he's never hung up on me before.

_I'm sorry. I'm always asking too much of you. Love you, Mom. _I typed out on a text to Jasper while waiting on a red light to change.

A moment later his reply came: _I'm sorry I hung up on you. Take your time. I'll always wait for you, momma. -Yours JH._

As I read his reply, I felt my eyes swell up with tears. I always felt so undeserving, when it came to Jasper. He's always been such a surprisingly _good_ kid. It's like I'm still waiting to wake up and find in his place a carbon copy of his father staring back and hating me, instead of my sweet and caring boy.

Swallowing down the bitter taste this train of thought entails, I squash away the memories that accompanied it. Instead, I thought of Aro Fokionas. And tried to avoid the straying of my thoughts to turn to the worrisome boy Alice had pointed out to me at Bella's birthday party, Peter Faidon.

Making a right turn, I parked in the first available parking space and regained control of my emotions after a moment of breathing in and out and listening to the quite purr of my engine. Peter Faidon…

_Dark times, Alice, dark times that are better left unearthed, _I remember telling Alice._ It's not like you can change it._

_ I wish I could._

_ But you can't._

_ Best to keep the past buried where it belongs, right? _She'd replied in turn, agreeing.

_Forgotten,_ we had both agreed.

"I can't do grocery shopping right now," I realized. Putting my gears on reverse, I started out for the longer rout towards Jasper's school and rang Alice.

"This better be important," Alice greeted on the second ring. "And if it is, make it quick."

"Hi to you too, Ali-By," I greeted, smiling in spite of myself.

"Time's are a wastin, tic-tock, tic-tock," She muttered impatiently. Actually, she sounded like she was holding a pin with her mouth or something. I smiled. "I'm trying to get ready for Halloween. You should know that."

"Oh, yeah, it's that time of the year…"

"So…" She trailed off. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your call, Rose? You sound off."

"Right. Rip the Band-Aid off in one go."

"Spit it out, Rose," Alice instructed, getting more and more irritated the longer I procrastinated.

"My son hates me?"

"What did you do?" She asked, sighing and potentially dropping what she was doing to give me her undivided attention as she barked some orders to her foolish, wide-eyed volunteers. "Wait, don't tell me. I think I know. You broke another promise."

"You hit the nail right in the head," I admitted feeling foolish and ashamed.

"Of course I did." She sounded smug.

I grimaced. "I called you so that you would comfort me," I complained.

"Poor baby, no such luck here," Alice mocked. "You should have called Irina for that, not me. I'm with Jasper on this one."

"So much for depending on my best friend," I bickered.

"Look," Alice started, "I know that whatever you did, you did it with Jasper in mind."

"Right," I agreed.

"Well, he knows that and I know that. But that doesn't mean he fully understand that, he's still a kid. Even if we all forget about that little known factor more often than not, that's just the truth of reality."

"I really messed up Alice," I sighed, burying my face in my palms. "Tell me I can fix this?"

"You can fix this Sister," She told me confidently.

"I hope so," I sighed. "He hung up on me."

Alice chuckled. "About time too!"

"Hey!" I protested, chuckling too. "I was so mad then… but now I just think it's kind of funny."

"I wish I could have witnessed that," Alice sighed wistfully.

"Too bad it was over the phone," I agreed. "I've never seen Jasper so mad," I mused, thinking back to all those times he should have reacted angrily while growing up. Instead, he'd reacted like the bigger man and acted calmly. "He's always the one with the cool head while I go about rampant and fuming until he somehow manages to calm me down…"

"He has a talent for that. Jasper does." There was a pause. "You know, he doesn't hate you. Even if he's mad at you, he's only mad because he knows you're the only person he can truly count on. So you really shouldn't disappoint him…"

"Thanks, Ali-By," I sighed, feeling better and a little relieved. "I'll let you get back to work now."

"Any time Petal," Alice replied and I could hear the teasing smile in her voice. She knew I hated that nickname! "Love you!" And the line went dead.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p>I shook my head as I exited my car and made my way into my favorite book store, <em>Weber's Webb of Books<em>. A little out-of-the-way corner book store that always smelled of leather and old parchment with a bit of new, completing its look with its faded, hand-written sign that needed a serious touch-up.

This little, homey book store has been handed down to each new generation of Weber's, always remaining in the family and therefore the very reason why it became my favorite book store. Meaning that every customer that walked through its door became like family and faithful clientele for life, myself included.

"Welcome to _Weber's Webb of Books_," Mrs. Weber greeted as the door bell announced my presence.

"Hello Mrs. Webber," I greeted.

"Oh! Rose!" Mrs. Weber greeted enthusiastically as she came from behind the counter to hug me. "How have you been, darling? Haven't seen you around these parts for a while, I was beginning to worry."

"Sorry, sorry, Mrs. Weber," I chuckled out, a little flushed and embarrassed.

"Don't be!" She admonished. "And enough of this Mrs. Weber tosh call me Eleanor."

"Right. Eleanor." I smiled timidly. "I've been so busy at Eleazar's, taking extra shifts and what not," I explained. "You know how it is…"

"I know, the economy has been tough on all of us," She said dismissively, hugging me again. "Even so, it's so good to see you! You need to come by more often, even if you don't need to buy anything."

"Like wise." I couldn't agree more. "I'll take you up on that offer."

"What brings you here today?" Eleanor asked, her eyes shining with a knowing smile. "Hopefully some shopping is in sight? Because I've been reserving some books especially for you, I've had them in the back for a while now."

"Show 'em to me!"

"I was right!" Eleanor gleamed delightedly. "Well, make yourself at home while I go get them and pour you some coffee. You look like you need it."

"You have no idea," I groaned, making a beeline for the coffee station. "Don't worry. I've got the coffee."

"Be right back then!"

Just as Eleanor Weber disappeared into her backroom and I'd poured myself a steaming cup of brew, the doorbell rang, announcing another customer.

"I'll be right there if you give me a moment!" Eleanor called from the back. "Please feel free to browser around!"

Turning my back to the coffee station, I met eyes with the new, potential client and realized I recognized them.

"Bella?" I questioned, slightly disbelieving.

"Quee- Rosalie?" Bella stuttered out, just as surprised.

And that was when I noticed that she was crying. "Bella, what's wrong? Why are you crying?" I questioned, concerned.

"It's nothing," Bella hedged, furiously wiping at her tears with the backs of her wrists.

"Where's Renée?" I asked, noting that no one else was coming after her. "Where's your mom, sweetie?" At my words, more and more tears started to swell in Bella's eyes and fall down her cheeks. "Shh, it's okay," I hushed, slightly alarmed and hugging her to me.

"She didn't come for me after class," Bella cried, letting her tears fall freely, no longer trying to keep them at bay.

"Wh- What do you mean?" I wondered quizzically. From what Jasper had told me about Renée, she sounded like she was a child taking care of another child. But I would have never assumed the woman would be scattered brained enough to forget her own child?

"I- I think she forgot about me," Bella wailed. "She's never forgotten me before…" She hiccupped between inconsolable sobs. "But I was supposed to stay with Daddy today… so she doesn't like to listen to Daddy…"

Meaning that Chief Swan had probably arranged everything with his ex but she'd completely blocked him out because it was coming from him. Instantly, I felt angry on Bella's behalf. Simmering down my rage, I focused on Bella once again.

"I'm sorry, baby," I hushed. "Do you want me to call her? I think she gave me her phone number, so I should have it around here somewhere…"

Bella shook her head. "No, I want Daddy."

"Okay. I'll call Chief Swan."

"Bella?" Mrs. Weber asked, sounding confused. "Rose? You two know each other?"

"You know Prince Charming's mom, Eleanor?" Bella asked, staring at Eleanor with wide-teary eyes and momentarily forgetting that she was still crying.

"Umm…" I stifled a giggle as Eleanor glanced in my direction. Clearly a cry for help, if I'd ever seen one.

"That would be my son," I offered.

"Oh!" Eleanor had put two and two together and now seemed highly amused. But her concern for Bella outweighed the amusement. "Bella, why are you crying and not in class?"

"I don't like ballet," Bella grumbled.

"Oh, Bella," Eleanor sighed, like a woman who had heard the end of this conversation many times before. "And where's that mother of yours?"

Like a leaky faucet, Bella's tears started up again and she jutted out her lower lip, pouting.

"Bella seems to think Renée might have forgotten her," I divulged in a low whisper.

Eleanor's eyes widened. "That woman might be as scattered brained as they come but she would never forget to pick up Bella," She contemplated. "Something must have happened."

We both glanced at Bella, making sure that she hadn't heard us.

"That's a relief," I sighed. "That she wouldn't forget her daughter, that is," I amended. "I was about to call Chief Swan. That's who she wanted me to call."

"Of course," Eleanor smiled sadly. "Give me a moment. I'll fetch you his number."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

"Eleanor?" Bella spoke up. "You're not going to call Renée, are you?"

"No, sweetheart," Eleanor assured her and Bella relaxed. "I'm giving Rosalie your Daddy's number, okay?"

"Okay." Bella was pleased, I could tell.

"How do you know Eleanor, Bella?" I asked in an attempt to distract the pouting girl.

"She's Angie's mom," She explained. "Angie is my best friend."

"I see."

"And I love books!" She further explained, smiling.

"Me too." I smiled. "That's why I'm here today, to buy books."

"What kinds of books?" She questioned.

"Books about mechanics," I told her. "About cars."

"Jasper likes cars too… that's why he likes Uncle Aro, right?"

_Smart girl,_ I thought. "He gets that from me."

"Here's the Chief's number, Rose," Eleanor announced, handing me a piece of paper with a series of numbers written on it.

I thanked her as I dialed the number on my cell phone, which connected me to his secretary.

"Chief Swan's office, please," I requested.

"May I ask who is calling?" His secretary's gravelly voice asked and I had to control the urge to roll my eyes.

"Ms. Rosalie Hale," I deadpanned.

"In regards to?"

"His daughter," I gritted out. I seriously wanted to ring the woman's neck.

"One moment please," She said. "I'm connecting you now."

"Thank you," I practically spat and smiled sweetly at Bella and Eleanor. The smiled back encouragingly.

"Chief Swan," Answered Charlie Swan after a couple of rings.

"Chief Swan, I don't know if you remember me… this is Rosalie Hale-" I began.

"Jasper Whitlock's mother, right?" He guessed. "My daughter's _Prince Charming_?"

_Touchy subject, still, I see._

"The one and only," I chuckled nervously.

"Mrs. Stanley said this was about my daughter?"

"Yes, Sir," I agreed. "You see, she came into _Weber's Webb of Books_ just a short while ago crying and told me that Renée hasn't picked her up yet," I explained as best I could.

The Chief let out a series of profanities before asking, "Is Eleanor there? Can I speak with her?"

"Uh, yes, yes. Sure," I answered hastily. "Eleanor, the Chief would like a word?"

"Thank you Rosalie," Chief Swan huffed before I passed Eleanor the phone.

"What did my Daddy say?" Bella asked. "Is he coming to get me?"

"I don't know yet sweetheart," I answered honestly. "I suppose that's why he needs to speak with Eleanor."

Bella nodded, understanding.

"Rose?" I turned to Eleanor and took my phone back as she said, "Charlie would like to ask you something." She looked rather apologetic, which made me curious.

"Yes Sir?" I answered cautiously.

The Chief sighed heavily at the other end of the line. "Ms. Hale-" he began.

"Please, call me Rosalie," I interrupted.

"Rosalie, then," He amended. "I can't break from work, unfortunately, to go retrieve my daughter…"

"So you are saying?"

"Please, understand, I wouldn't ask if I had any other choice…" Now I saw where this was going. "Would you mind looking after my daughter until I can retrieve her? I wouldn't ask but-"

I interrupted him, "It's fine, I'll make sure she's safe."

"Thank you so much," Charlie Swan sighed, relieved. "She has no allergies."

I smiled. "Good to know. She's in good hands, Chief. If she needs to spend the night, that'll be fine too."

"Thank you so much. I think that would be best… she'll tell you where she goes to school and at what time, if you ask her. She's responsible like that." I could read the "unlike someone else" between the likes in that sentence, but remained quite.

"I'll be sure to ask," I promised. "Would you like to speak with her?"

"If it's not too much to ask," He said sheepishly.

"Not at all."

"Thank you."

"Bella, here," I said, handing the phone over and giving them some privacy.

"What have you got for me, Eleanor?"

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Bella's PoV<strong>

I couldn't believe that after almost a whole month of not seeing or hearing anything about _Prince Charming _I was going to see him again! Who would have thought I would run into the _Queen _at _Weber's Webb of Books _of all places. Angie and I spent most of our afternoons there, when I wasn't taking Ballet and she wasn't visiting her Grandparents, like today.

Practically vibrating with excitement, I watched as the blurring streets outside the backseat window became somewhat recognizable as the _Queen's _car began to slow down. We drew up to what I recognized as James and Charlotte's school.

"We are here," the _Queen _announced as the car came to a complete stop. "Jasper's probably at the library so we've got to go in and find him."

Quietly I undid the buckle of my seatbelt and waited for the _Queen _to open my side of the door. No matter how much I had pouted that she didn't need to, she had put the child lock on.

"Common," she urged and I followed. Staring at everything and everyone, I felt like I was beginning to know _Prince Charming _a little more than before.

Hopefully we wouldn't run into James. Thankfully, my prayer held and we didn't run into James. That is, until we entered the library. Hiding behind the _Queen _I managed to avoid James spotting me and reached _Prince Charming _unnoticed, or so I thought.

The _Queen _nudged me forward with a wink and jerked her head towards her son, silently telling me to get his attention.

_Here goes nothing,_ I thought nervously as I reached out a trembling hand to tug at his sleeve.

"Momma, about tim-" _Prince Charming's _eyes widened as he realized that I wasn't the _Queen_ and he looked alarmed, glancing all around him.

"Hi," I greeted uncertainly.

"If this is what you meant by, "I'll make it up to you", I don't get it," He seethed, meeting the _Queen's _surprised gaze. "This is double suicide!"

There were murmurs all around us as his chair scrapped the floor, making us everyone's focus, and he rushed out of the library without waiting for either of us.

I glanced worriedly at the _Queen _but she just motioned for me to follow her without explanation. That was when I noticed that James was glaring after Jasper and soon, his eyes fell on me too, a cruel smile curving his lips. I shivered and rushed ahead after Jasper.

"Jasper!" I called but he either didn't hear me or ignored me as he got into his mother's car, looking angry. Everyone was now staring at me. I flushed. Following what Jasper had done, I made a beeline towards his mom's car and got in the backseat without a word, tears prickling in my eyes.

Next moment, the _Queen _opened her side of the door and got in just as silently, her eyes boring into her son's angry face.

"What is she doing here?" Jasper asked with barely contained rage, glancing anywhere but at his mother.

"I'm sorry…" I whispered, crying.

"Her father asked me to take care of her," the _Queen _explained, clearly not pleased with her son's attitude.

"I'm sorry," I whispered again, but I might as well have been speaking to the deaf or dead.

"You did this without thinking about me!" Jasper said furiously. The _Queen _and I flinched at the harshness in his voice. "Whatever happens to me tomorrow, don't blame me, blame yourself." Jasper added, glancing at someone in the distance. "What were you thinking?" That someone, I realized as I, too, look, was James, sneering.

"That's enough Jasper!" The _Queen _chastised, putting the car into gear and driving us to their home. "You're making her cry."

"Well, excuse me."

Just like that, I knew that our reunion wasn't as happy as I would have pictured it. It was far from happy. For one thing, Jasper didn't want me here. It seemed like he didn't even like me. This realization made me cry even more.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…" I cried over and over.

"I'm such a dick," Jasper groaned.

"Language!"

"Please, stop crying Bella…"

Just one word from him and my tears stopped.

"But- but you hate me," I sobbed.

The _Queen _slapped the side of his head, hissing, "Look what you did."

"Look, I don't hate you," Jasper clarified, turning slightly in his seat to glance back at me. "So stop crying, okay? I'm sorry."

"You don't?" I asked hopefully.

He shook his head. "I don't." He didn't hate me. "So you'll stop crying now?"

I smiled, drying my tears. "Okay."

My world was right again, he was still part of it.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **So sorry for the long wait guys. Hopefully it was worth it... You'll let me know, right?_


	10. Make It Right

**_Once Upon a Time;_**

**_Bella's PoV_**

_"I'm such a dick," Jasper groaned._

_ "Language!" The Queen chided her son in a hiss. _

_ "Please, stop crying Bella…"_

_ Just one word from him and my tears stopped._

_ "But- but you hate me," I sobbed._

_ The Queen slapped the side of his head, hissing, "Look what you did."_

_ "Look, I don't hate you," Jasper clarified, nursing the tender side of his head and slightly turning in his seat, he glanced back at me and implored, "So stop crying, okay? I'm sorry."_

_ "You don't?" I asked hopefully, eyes wide. He shook his head. He didn't hate me. I smiled, drying my tears. "Okay," I promised._

_ The world was right again._

* * *

><p><strong><em>oOo<em>**

* * *

><p><strong>Scouting for Prince Charming<strong>

** Tale IX:**

** Make It Right**

**Jasper's PoV**

After my boot in the mouth moment, with some metaphorical forced feeding and choking, the en route home ride became so heavily silent that you could hear a needle drop acutely. Apart from the car engine purring along, swiveling and eating the road ahead, absolutely nothing could be heard within the vehicle. Not our breathing or my constricted heartbeat, thudding painfully against my chest and the confining oppression of ribcages. It was as if the inside of my momma's car had suddenly been put on mute, captions needed.

_…Thud, thud, thu-thud… …Thu-thud, thud, thud…_

_(A gagged mantra, congealed by the taciturn-ringing of seething blood, throbbing into my ears)_

Sighing, I fidgeted in my seat and turned toward the window, resting my elbow on the door panel, only to stare at my reflection in hopes of deflecting my mother's livid gaze through the rearview mirror. Her glare was branding my face with the shame she felt at what she'd just witnessed happen between her son and an innocent girl that we both barely knew. _Poor Bella,_ my mind taunted and I scowled, though agreeing resentfully.

To say the least, I was ashamed of myself. Really, there was no need for her steely dawn-blue eyes, with a splash of sunny yellow around the pupils and stretching out, to remind me of that. There was really nothing her gaze could convey that I wasn't already agonizing over, twice as brutally. You guessed it, my conscience sounds _suspiciously _like my momma and Alice combined, confined within my scruple inclined mind. _Insert mental shudder… it'll give you nightmares!_

Groaning internally, I chided myself with verbal whips that sported spikes of self degradation and a backlash of potty mouth. I couldn't believe that I'd just channeled all of my one month worth frustration onto an eight year old girl. Even though all of my current predicaments and grievances _were_ connected to her, one unavoidable way or another, I had no right to do that.

Because, if I was to be honest with myself, I knew that Bella didn't deserve this kind of treatment from me. She'd played no hand in whatever twisted and tormenting plans James had in store for me, while coveting my demise and taking his time to deliver his homicidal blow at _just _the right inappropriate time. That was all James, in his all encompassing, merciless, and egotistically warped mind.

Unable to satiate my qualms, I forced myself to break the tangibly rigid and uncomfortable silence, hoping by all that was, no, _is_ Holy that the right words would spill out of my mouth without turning into more of a _dick _than I'd already managed to make myself appear. _Easier said than done,_ I thought sardonically and opened my mouth to speak-

* * *

><p><strong>Bella's PoV<strong>

"Hey, Bella?" I heard my previously jaded _Prince _call hesitantly, shattering the uncomfortable silence around us. Tearing my sight away from the blurring road beyond my window with some difficulty I glanced over at _Prince Charming _Jasper, meeting his aqua eyes in the rearview mirror. He smiled faintly at me, looking nervous, and swallowed, "Where does your Poppa keep his gun?"

Within the next beat, the _Queen's _eyes widened and glanced over at her son with a somewhat unbelieving look flooding through her eyes. _Prince Charming _Jasper met her eyes with a pleading look that begged his mother not to ask, to leave it alone. Something unspoken happened, and then her son shrugged his shoulders with the slightest of discouraging supplications shining through his aqua eyes. With a heavy and defeated sigh, the _Queen _set her sights back on the road with a wary demeanor about her posture without further protest.

By the second beat _Prince Charming _Jasper is looking grateful. Once again, his clear eyes were on mine, waiting for me to answer his seemingly out-of-nowhere question with some sort of evident eagerness that made me want to fidget. But I'm stubborn, so I don't.

Instead, I repeat his question, mulling it over slowly within my minds instant sound replay. Lost in translation, I blinked, caught by surprise by the fact that his apparent none intelligible question actually made sense to me, given the current situation. _Cue third beat._

"You're funny," I can't help but snicker. The _Queen _glances over at me curiously, her eyes alternating between her son and me with some unabashed amusement. I shrug. "Daddy says guns are not for playing," I explain. "So I don't know. He always hides it."

"Good," _Prince Charming _Jasper mumbles, nodding to himself and looking rather pleased with my answer. "That probably means it's well hidden."

"Probably," I agree thoughtfully. "Since it's supposed to be somewhere out of my reach." I smile. "Where I can't reach, _yet_," I can't help but add. The thought that I'll be getting taller soon, making me giddy, almost. Soon enough, no one will be able to treat me like a little kid, that's how much I'll grow. At least, that's what I wished upon the falling star I saw last night…

"Oh…" _Prince Charming_ Jasper sighs, looking slightly worried. "So that probably means it's still within quickly accessible reach." As he says this he looks slightly put off and chalky, almost shaken and troubled. "You're a shorty, though, you know?" He comments with a teasing smirk quirking his lips.

"Hey!" I protest.

"Are you taller than me?" He questions, a valid argument.

I pout. "No." He smirks, quirking a brow and laughing, victorious. My eyes become dangerous and murderous slits that shoot poisonous daggers at the laughing _Prince Charming_ Jasper that I'm starting to hold a HUGE grudge against. "But that's only because you're older than me!" I manage to argue through his incessant laughter, pointing out the obvious disadvantage. "Just wait 'til I get older." It's a warning, no doubt about it. I hope he sees it as such, but my hopes are shattered by his next words.

"Sorry to break it to you, Bella," He starts, smiling handsomely and condescendingly, "but even when you turn my age, I'm _pretty _sure you'll be shorter than me, still."

I gape at his cruel prediction of the future but do not give up the battle. "I'm taller than Jake," I offer smugly, stubbornly, with my nose high in the air.

"And how old is he?"

I glare, _like you don't know._ "He's _five_," I struggle to admit.

He scoffs, triumphant. "So he's younger than you…"

_Do you really need to point it out so obviously, _I resent, feeling like I'm losing this ongoing battle even before we are done. Still, I have one more trick up my sleeve and I shamelessly use it, a smug smirk put in place as I say, "I'm taller than Edward, and he's my age! Even if it is by a little, _I'm _taller."

He shrugs, clearly undeterred, saying, "We'll see if that stays that way forever…" He shrugs, like he can't help breaking it to me. "But no worries, I'm sure you won't always be this short." I grin hesitantly, encouraged. "You'll just always be a shorty to me, since I still have some growing to do."

Smile completely wiped off, my mouth falls open and closed several times like a fish out of water before I finally find it in me to clamp it shut. I'm seething; I can feel that familiar blotch of angry red coloring my slightly rounded cheeks and try to calm down.

"You're nothing like the _Prince's _I read about in my books," I observe quietly and, without meaning to, out loud.

_Prince Charming _Jasper's head jerks up slightly as he makes an effort to make eye contact with me over his shoulder. I refuse, feeling slightly embarrassed. _Maybe I'd had it all wrong? _The thought makes me so sad that I feel my eyes prickle with tears. Not wanting to be seen crying again, I force myself to look at my, probably, fake _Prince Charming _in an attempt to distract myself. It works, but now I'm slightly breathless and blushing furiously with a tumbling, stuttering, and tripping heart sounding loud in my ears.

His aqua eyes are intent on my flushed face as he delicately asks, "And what makes you say that?"

"You're not being nice to me," I force myself to say as coherently as possible. "You're being mean." My mind feels muddled. Without thinking, I press a hand to my heated cheek, hoping that the coolness of my numb palm can help in making my blushing less obvious. But the movement is so slow that I might as well be trying to lift a hand under water, I give up, letting my hand thud back onto my lap.

"I'm-" He starts but is interrupted.

"We are here," His mother, _Queen_, announces and clears her throat. She looks between the two of us looking slightly uncomfortable to be in the same car as us.

"Right." Jasper opens his door mechanically, swinging his body along with his belongings out the door. "Trunk?"

The _Queen _shakes her head. "I didn't get a chance to make it to the grocery store, sorry," She explains in sincere apology. I gather my backpack and attempt to open my door before I remember that it has that silly child-lock. Huffing, I burrow heavily back into the giving leather once again to wait for someone to remember I'm still here as I observe my surroundings.

Her son sighs, unfazed, like he'd been expecting no less and nods in acceptance, asking, "Are you coming into the house momma or are you hitting the road again and heading to the garage?"

"The road, I'm afraid," The _Queen _admits, looking conflicted and torn. "Jasper, I-"

"Make sure to drive safely," _Prince Charming _Jasper tells the _Queen_, smiling through eyes that look thoroughly disappointed, but won't admit to it for his mother's sake. "Text me when you get there?" Just as he makes this request, he opens my door and I happily climb out, feeling like my fleeting smile was out of place, given the atmosphere.

"I will," His mother promises.

"Text me when you're on your way home," He further instructs, an honest but sad smile making a fleeting appearance.

The _Queen _smiles with warmth. "I will."

"And wake me up when you get home," _Prince Charming _Jasper adds wickedly as an afterthought, his voice trembling with withheld laughter. I smile contently, glancing between _Queen _and _Prince_, relieved to realize that the tension had somehow lessened. My curiosity perked, I did not need to pretend to take in the quaint town home with an attached garage, which looked immense, before me, my _Prince Charming's _home.

Somehow, though their home was entirely _not _what I had imagined, I could not help but think that it felt right for them to own such a home. Befitting of the image they portrayed through their mannerisms and actions. I couldn't wait to get inside and take in all of the things to see, just waiting for me to explore them. Especially the garage, I could only guess at what wonders the _Queen's _personal domain held. Something told me I wouldn't be disappointed with what I'd find and see inside.

"I'm supposed to be the parent here!" The _Queen _protests with a chuckle, waving us off but, even so, promises to do as her loving son requests of her before seeing us in and heading off to work once again.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Rosalie's PoV<strong>

Now on the open road and on my way to work I was able to do my routine disintoxication from guilt and all other worrisome things like I normally did when I had a blissful moment of quiet alone time. Meaning, I thought of anything and everything, mulling over whatever annoyed or required my eminent attention. Like what I'd witnessed today…

Obviously, I needed to re-teach my son some manners… the things he kept spewing! Like he had no filter or volition to stop him before he crashed and burned. A car crash in slow motion, that's what this was, what was happening, and I could not, for the life of me, turn a blind eye and look away.

But somehow, I found myself letting everything slide as I continued to watch and listen while my son interact with Isabella Swan, a child he had only interacted with two times prior to today. There was something there that I couldn't quite put my finger on, something unspoken and beyond my understanding.

They gave the feeling of having known each other for much longer than one unusual first encounter, a willing but hilariously burdensome second encounter, and a third unexpected clash with spiraling ongoing results. Sadly, I wasn't going to be able to witness it to the fullest like I wish I could. These two could keep at it, bantering back and forth without missing a beat and keeping it 'peaceful' and charismatic_. Like an old married couple,_ I realized with sudden glee. _Has my son met his match and not even know it?_

He had a long road ahead of him if that was the case. Thank God he inherited the Whitlock patience, unlike me. He's going to need it. But so will she, I couldn't help but acknowledge. My son wouldn't be easy to handle. Not to mention the age difference…

_What am I thinking! _I berated myself. _I need to discuss this with Alice_, I promised myself. Riding myself of all thoughts, I turned on the radio, scanning through the stations and settling on an acceptable one, raised the volume and proceeded to thoughtlessly drive the rest of the way to work. I would have time to mull over things later, much later… hopefully with the all knowing Ali-By.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><strong>Jasper's PoV<strong>

**_Thursday, October 4, 5:45 am_**

A protesting moan escaped my lips as the familiar wheezing and whirling of my printer interrupted my peaceful sleep. Just like every morning, it served as my alarm and was probably printing out what Aunt Alice has dictated will be my _Ali-By_ brand name outfit of the day.

However, something was telling me that there was something quite unusual about today. Mentally shrugging I imagined that it probably had to do with the fact that, unlike usual, I could not detect the warmth of the morning sun on my skin shinning through my window. In fact, my closed lids verified the very fact, because I would normally see red against my lids if the sun was out and peeking through and I wasn't seeing red.

Smiling ruefully and already mourning my waking awareness with some discontent, I began to attempt stretching out my sleep induced grogginess and stopped. _What's going on?_

I frowned, confused. I was overly _warm_, which is relatively normal… but what _wasn't_ normal was the fact that my left hand was tangled in something silky and foreign. Popping one eye open with some difficulty, I found myself forehead to forehead with none other than a peacefully sleeping Bella Swan… breathing in the very breath I was exhaling and using my right arm as her personal, living, warm pillow.

_Bella Swan? _I curiously questioned, blinking and slowly blinking again and again.

Frowning along with my thoughts, I stared at her, noting that, yes, she _is _real and is indeed breathing deeply against my skin, and my neck. She was resting in a fetal position of sorts, only it felt like every inch of her was touching me, though she shouldn't be able to given her curved form. I could not help but observe that Isabella looked _beautiful _and _delicate _in the early hours of the morning, impossibly so.

Bella looked older, younger, and careless, with not a worry in the world and with her hair in a halo, chaotically spreading and spilling over her shoulders, all around her and my mattress, and a single chunk of chocolaty tresses running from her right temple and over her thin, straight nose. Momentarily frigid and astounded by my train of thought, I halted all thoughts and cataloged every inch of my body that made contact with her equally warm, small body.

In doing so, I realized that one of her hands was actually touching the nape of my neck, her gentle fingers clutching lightly at the few short strands there -immediately, I felt the skin there prickle with Goosebumps. Meanwhile, her left hand was backhanded and vertically aligned over my heart, across my chest, elbow slightly out, and resting on the mattress -with a jolt, my heart quivered and quickened.

And as for her legs… Somehow, Bella's right leg had casually tangled itself between my own long ones, the heel of her foot just reaching my knee -exhaling shakily, I felt my breath hitch. On the other hand, her left leg was coiled against the side of my torso, just reaching halfway to her belly and chest -suddenly, I was feeling overly warm _all over_.

In all, she looked _very _comfortable and at home in my bed, undeniably, invading my personal space, borrowing my warmth, and sharing her own. Getting slightly flushed, I swallowed thickly, trying not to panic and think, and glanced over Bella's shoulder at my hand, my treacherous little hand, which was _tangled _in her hair. For some inexplicable reason beyond my imagining, I had unconsciously been keeping Bella closer to my body all throughout the night, and now apparently.

_"What the hell!"_ I tried to mumble, but only managed to mouth it, the fear and the very idea that she might wake and add to my embarrassment rendering me voiceless. Heart thudding erratically I tried recalling how, why, and when had Isabella Swan landed in my bed.

_Thank God we are not naked,_ my mind's overactive internal little voice put in snidely. Making me painfully aware of all the little places where only our skins alone touched and every place that, though fully clothed, I could feel her warmth seeping through and mingling with my own. _This _can't_ be happing! It _shouldn't_ be happening! _I couldn't help but silently scream in a tortured panic.

I almost didn't dare look to find out and make positively sure that Bella _was _in fact wearing clothes too. Sighing with relief, I unevenly let out the breath I'd been holding when I spied the plum colored fabric of Bella's large, comfy nightshirt and the black leggings she was wearing.

_ Fully clothed too, _I mentally cheered. _This is nothing to panic about, Jasper_, I tried convincing myself. _I mean, for heaven's sake, she's only eight! This is all innocent… Besides, what are the chances that anyone other than you knows about this? _My snide mind taunted.

"_Shit, MOMMA!" _I groaned, practically screamed internally. _She'd probably witnessed the whole thing last night after getting home and didn't wake me to help me safe face… _I couldn't help but groan my discomfort to the room at the thought.

Bella stiffened and mumbled unintelligibly, causing me to still and cease all breathing. When she fell quiet once again and didn't wake, I managed to breathe easily once again. But then another thought plagued me as I became aware of something very vital.

_Bella is a girl! _I breathed out under my breath in numbing realization. _I slept next to a _girl _all night… _FREEZ! _Yup, I'm gobsmacked!_ Complete head-shoulder to feet lockdown. _I've never even slept, _slept_ with a girl before,_ another part of me whines. _But here I am, waking up to the sight of Isabella Swan, a little girl of eight and a _girl_, in my arms and during a school day no less._ I rolled my eyes at my mindless internal chatter, shutting it off, and suddenly recalled everything in full fledged detail.

It had been very innocent indeed. I grinned, relieved. _Not that I had really thought or believed anything like _that_ had happened between us, but still, good to know that it hadn't. _Scratch that, immensely relieved! And just like that, I allowed myself to relax, content to have woken up to the sight of little Isabella Swan, the only girl in this planet that could ever consider me a _Prince Charming._

Mindlessly allowing my fingers to rake through Bella's halo of chocolaty messy hair, further tangling my hand in it, I allowed my placid smile to further stretch and widen fully as I glanced at the sleeping girl in my arms.

_So innocent and trusting_, I marveled. _Such long eyelashes and silky, thick hair with such a rich and natural color, like liquid chocolate but with a bit more depth to it, _I considered, noting the different other colors that highlighted her dark tresses when the light hit her hair in just the right way. There were three different shades of reds, two opposing blonds, more caramel and honey browns, and enriching blacks._ And if I remember correctly, I think her eyes, wide and large, like a doe's, are the same color. But I wonder if there's more to them, like the varying shades of her hair…_

Since I couldn't imagine something like this ever happening again, I was making it my mission to do what I hadn't done the first and second time I met Bella; I was drinking the sight of her in unabashedly, in full detail. Glad that she was asleep and couldn't witness me do it.

_Her skin is so fair too, just a few birthmarks, one in the hollow of her neck and two other on opposite sides of her collarbones, and a little dusting of faded freckles adorning her nose, _I continued to observe as I tucked the errant tresses behind Bella's ear, removing the obstruction from her face and out of the way of my scrutinizing eyes. _Even when she grows up, I'm sure even then her skin will still be fair…_

Bella sighed contentedly, snuggling closer into me. I froze. Bella mumbled something about bunnies, guns, and hating ballet… Unable to stop myself, I snickered quietly at the absurdity of what she might be dreaming and continued my ministrations, untangling her silky tresses, and thought back to last night...

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><strong><em>Wednesday, October 8, 6:48pm<em>**

"I'm singin' in the rain… …Just singin' in the rain!" Bella sings jovially from the kitchen on her makeshift stool, a chair, as she does the dishes and I finish off my homework. "What a glorious feelin'… …I'm happy again…" I shake my head in wonder. Bella's mood swings are something else, I tell you, and she hasn't started her periods yet! I know that when she does start them, if I still know her by then, I'm staying far away from her line of fire, until the danger passes. That's for sure.

You see, though I had offered to help with the dishes after dinner, she had shooed me away, saying that she was more than capable of doing them on her own. I couldn't argue that, the girl had two hands and all that. Having no further arguments to add, I had graciously relented after a couple more attempts at politeness, but not before witnessing Bella's stink eye and being told, none too kindly, to stop procrastinating and go do my homework. Like the good boy I am, I had had no choice but to obey or face the little Swan's wrath.

So here I am, finishing the last of it and at a respectable hour, no less. Normally, I'd be playing on my PS3, watching a movie, or doing something else that does not involve my homework at this hour and later staying up until all hours of the night finishing my work. What can I say? Bella's made an honest and exemplary teenager and student out of me, at least for tonight.

If Hell freezes over, I'll have you know it is all Isabella Swan's fault, you have her to blame. Though, my momma would probably love to have her over more often, if word got out so I'm not even mentioning this later. I'm not one for complaining anyways. I take on life like a man, you know? _Snort. _

"The sun's in my heart… And I'm ready for love…" She continues to sing merrily and I wonder just how many times she has listened to this song to know it word for word. _Way too many times,_ I reckon, _that's for sure. _"I walk down the lane… …With a happy refrain… …Just singin', Singin' in the rain!"

"Um… Bella," I call.

"…Dancin' in the rain!" She glances casually over at me, looking me over with suspicion.

I smile innocently, too innocent to be believable actually. But I'm not looking to be believable. I like the fact that she's suspicious of me, it just means she gets me and knows me better than anyone who's only met me a handful of time should. _Guess she's just intuitive like that,_ I venture.

"You know it's not raining, right?" I tease, pointing out the obvious. "And besides, you're inside." I motion to our surroundings for effect.

She rolls her eyes at me. "I know that," She huffs and turning back to the dishes, proceeds to ignore me. "_Obviously_." I sneaker as I hear her mutter something that sound suspiciously like 'Oh, grow up Jasper' under her breath.

_I've been demoted from _Prince Charming _Jasper to just Jasper, I see, _I can't help but note. Surprisingly, I don't know if I'm pleased with the fact. Which reminds me of something that I have _yet _to apologize for but I'll get around to it later, right now I _need _to continue teasing this tease-able girl.

"What was that Bella?"

Turning slightly, she scrunches up her nose unhappily and glares, singing, "I'm happy again!"

_A 'leave me alone' replacement, if I ever heard one as loud and clear._ "I'm singin' and dancin' in the rain!"

I don't know why, but this stubborn and defying side of her makes me smile and chuckle. Just as Bella finishes tidying up the kitchen and singing the final verses of the _Singin' in the Rain_ song, I finish my homework, closing my books and notebooks; I push them away from me and stretch my long legs and arms, cracking my back with the back of the chair.

"All done!" I exhale noisily and happily.

"Me too," Bella says, pulling the dining table chair along with her as she exits the kitchen and puts it back into place. "All done." Once the chair is in place, she sets her dark eyes on me expectantly.

"What do you want to do next? Want to go watch a movie with me?" I offer and stand up. "We can watch in my room. It's more comfortable, since we can lie in bed."

"Um," She pauses, as if hesitating and agrees, "Okay, I guess."

"Follow me then," I motion and start leading the way up to my room. Thankfully I had cleaned it up yesterday, so it isn't as messy as it was Tuesday. Tuesday my room looked like a warzone, no joke, with ketchup on the walls like a bloody crime scene -don't ask me how it got there, I'm still figuring that one out. "Or we can play video games instead if you like?" Glancing behind me I see that Bella's following me up the stairs at a deliberately slow pace while she glares down at every step, like they'd done something to her. Guess she's being overly careful, can't really hurt. Bet it _can_ if she isn't.

"What movies do you have?" I hear her ask as she catches herself on the railings, almost falling. _So it's true, she is a klutz. _Just before she entered the house today, she tripped over our _flat _threshold and then when the linoleum at the entryway turned to carpet as we rounded the living room. Both times she managed to catch herself before hitting the floor by holding on to me, much to my chagrin at the time.

"A bunch," I admit. "I shall show you my collection."

"But, _Pri- _Jasper?"

_Did she trip again? _I wonder. _I didn't hear the fall if she did. _I halt, turning to glance at Bella just as we reach my bedroom door and throw it open. Given that she had no warning to my sudden action, she crashes on to my chest. "Oops!" Surprised, I reach out my hands and manage to catch her just before she starts to fall backwards. "Oh, thanks," Bella chuckles nervously, cheeks flushed.

"No problem," I mumble, slightly embarrassed, trying to glance everywhere but at her and her enticing little blush, which I was growing to hope and expect for. "What were you trying to say before?"

There was something about her blushing that just made me want to see her do it over and over again, no matter how it came about. Weather I managed to talk it there or Bella's own klutzy actions and struggled words placed it there.

"Oh, that I wanted to go to the bathroom first, if that's okay?" She said slowly, blushing some more. "I need a shower."

"Oh." _Now I'm embarrassed. _"Um… you don't… I mean, you don't need _my _help with that, do you?" I asked, panicking slightly and praying that it wasn't so.

"No!" Bella practically screeched, easing my worries. Of course, now she was blushing in another ten shades of brilliant pink. "I- I'm a big girl."

"That's right." I swallowed, much too relieved. "You need a towel. Right?" She nods. "Right." I started to walk further down the hallway, Bella right behind me, towards the closet at the end. "Here's your towel." Opening the closet I provided her with a fluffy teal towel.

"Thank you." Barely above a whisper, her thanks still reached me.

I cleared my throat. "There's the bathroom." I pointed to the door on her left, my right at the moment. "That's my momma's office." I pointed to the door right across from the bathroom. "So don't get it confused with my room."

She nodded. "I just need to get my backpack with my clothes…"

"You- you put it in my room earlier, right?" I stuttered. "I'll get it," I offered as soon as she nodded. "Stay here."

I heard her faint okay as I entered my room and located her bag at the foot of my full sized bed. Sighing and racking a nervous hand through my Mohawk, I grabbed it and backtracked to the bathroom and Bella waiting and fidgeting just where I'd left her seconds ago.

"I need to shower too so I'll go use my momma's bathroom," I informed her as I handed Bella her bag. "You can use whatever you need from there." With that, I did an about face and proceeded on my way to find clean clothes and shower, trying not to think too much about anything.

* * *

><p><strong>~O~<strong>

* * *

><p>An hour later found Bella and me snuggly in bed, watching <em>Spirited Away<em>, fresh out of the shower, each with our towel dried hair and clean clothes, reclining against the head of my bed, and covered in our individual comforters and blankets. My momma and I like to keep the A/C low at night; we both hated to wake up sweating and figured that making it cooler would take care of the problem.

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><p><strong>~O~<strong>

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><p><strong><em>Wednesday, October 8, 8:48pm<em>**

Yawning, I glanced at the quarter of clock on my wall, porously that way, noting that it was relatively early but Bella was sort of nodding off and I was feeling tired myself. Looking back at the TV showed Chihiro trying to tell No Face that she didn't want his money before running off to find Haku, which set No Face off on a rampage as he started eating the bathhouse's employees in repercussion.

"Bella," I yawned, "do you want me to turn off the movie so you can go to sleep?"

Despite the fact that I had been talking as quietly as possible, Bella jolted at the unexpected sound of my voice.

"No, I'm not sleepy," She said, trying to sit up straight and watch the movie. "I'm watching. I like Haku, and Chihiro… and the little soot ball thingies…"

_Like hell you aren't, _I practically snorted out loud but decided to bite my tongue. Her stubbornness knew no bounds. "Well, I am," I declared. Bella pouted but didn't protest. In fact she looked kind of relieved. Reaching out for the remote, I quickly turned off the movie, the surround sound, and the TV. Next, I reached for the light remote and dimed the lights, placing a one hour timer so they would go out on their own after an hour, giving Bella time to fall asleep without being in total darkness. Since I wasn't sure if she was afraid of the dark and all, my own comfort is damned.

As soon as the lights were dimed, Bella turned her back to me, laying on her right side and I in turn, rested on my back with my right hand under my pillow. Sleep never came easy to me, I suffered from mild insomnia at times, and hopefully it wouldn't keep Bella up.

Though my momma's office was also a guest room I couldn't find it in my heart to ask Bella to go sleep in there instead of on my bead. She looked so comfortable already. Besides, my room was already familiar to her. I wouldn't want her not to be able to sleep because she was in an unfamiliar room. That's how I usually am, can't sleep to safe my life when I'm in a place that's unfamiliar and with unfamiliar people.

Half an hour passed and I could tell Bella was still awake despite her previous nodding off state.

"I can't sleep," Bella announced, a moment later, breaking the silence.

"Me either," I admitted.

"I thought so, but I wasn't sure." She sounded relieved. "My mommy and daddy usually comb my hair with their fingers when they put me to bed and that's how I fall asleep," Bella explained in hushed tones.

"…Do you want me to comb your hair?" I offered, figuring that that's what she was after and it'd be too troublesome to deny her anything right now.

"Would you?" She pleaded hopefully. Bella turned on her left side, facing me now. "If you do, I can do the same for you too if you want."

"Sure," I agreed. I didn't have the strength to argue her anything. "Com'ere," I instructed, turning to my right side and offering her my right arm for a pillow. "It's okay if you don't try to comb my hair though."

"Okay." Gratefully, Bella quickly complied and snuggled closer to me but not too close, which I was grateful for. "Thank you Jasper," Bella managed between a yawn, looking into my eyes as I glanced down at her.

"Bella, it's okay, I don't mind," I assured her. "Just close your eyes and try to sleep."

As soon as Bella closed her eyes I started to caress her hair from the nape out and closed my own eyes. A moment later I felt Bella's warm fingers smoothing out a frown I didn't realize I was sporting. I had a migraine. I opened my eyes and stared down at her, she was looking down at me, a worried frown creasing her brow.

"You were frowning," She explained.

"So are you," I pointed out, chuckling as she immediately stopped doing so. "I just have a migraine, it'll go away soon."

"I'll make it go away," Bella vowed, continuing her small and warm caresses and closing her eyes.

"You better." Given that it felt so nice, I allowed it.

"I will," She promised, eyes still closed and a smile on her face. I too closed my eyes once again.

Ever so slowly, I felt the effects of her caresses beginning to work as my pain began to ebb away. As if Bella knew this too, her fingers began to travel on their own until they settled on the nape of my neck, toying with the hair there, which felt amazing and brought her forehead to forehead with me. Soon, I was losing my fight to consciousness as I slipped into sleep, but all ready Bella's finger's had slowed their lazy circles, starting and stopping…

Blissful sleep took us the next moment…

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><p><strong>oOo<strong>

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><p><strong><em>AN:_**_ Here's the new chapter everyoone, thank you for reading! Please, let me know your thoughts. I do enjoy reading them and especially getting them. How did you like this chapter?_**  
><strong>


	11. The Buried, The Known, and The Spoken

_**Once Upon a Time;**_

_**Jasper's PoV**_

**Wednesday, October 8, 8:48pm**

_"I'll make it go away," Bella vowed, continuing her small and warm caresses and closing her eyes. _

_ "You better." Given that it felt so nice, I allowed it._

_ "I will," She promised, eyes still closed and a smile on her face. I too closed my eyes once again._

_ Ever so slowly, I felt the effects of her caresses beginning to work as my pain began to ebb away. As if Bella knew this too, her fingers began to travel on their own until they settled on the nape of my neck, toying with the hair there, which felt amazing and brought her forehead to forehead with me. Soon, I was losing my fight to consciousness as I slipped into sleep, but all ready Bella's fingers had slowed their lazy circles, starting and stopping…_

_ Blissful sleep took us the next moment…_

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><p><em><strong>oOo<strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>Scouting for Prince Charming<strong>

** Tale X:**

** The Buried, The Known, and The Spoken Truth**

**Peter's PoV**

_**Wednesday, October 8, 2:45pm**_

"Mom, what are we doing here at the hospital?" I inquired as I idly followed behind my mother's hurried footsteps into the uninviting premises of the _Promise Hospital of Phoenix_. I hate hospitals, their desensitized smell, and besides, nothing good ever happens in hospitals. "Gamma's not sick, is she?" The mere thought made me blanch with conflicting emotions and an insane surge of maiming pain.

"No, no, Peter, sweetheart," My mother quickly assured, turning to gaze back at me with her right hand on the door handle. "Heaven forbid! Your Gamma is healthy and well as a horse, you can be sure of that."

"Good," I muttered, relieved, as I opened the door for my mother to go through.

"You should probably call Gamma soon though," She continued on conversationally, a small worried frown creasing her smooth forehead. "She's been nagging me about my not giving you enough free time to call her." I smiled. Gamma was always looking out for me. "She says I need to give you a breather, clearly she doesn't know that it's you who keeps making you busy."

"I'll call her. But you need to keep my secret mom," I mock pleaded with a wink. "Gamma needs to keep thinking I'm an angel." Actually, I was feeling a little guilty. There had been so much going on in the past couple of weeks, schoolwork, practice, and rumors about James, Jasper, and Bella, that I hadn't had the time or the energy to call Gamma in two weeks.

"You rascal," Mom chuckled. "Come on, we need to hurry."

"Right," I agreed, getting a move on again. "And, so, what are we doing here again?" I'd nearly forgotten my original question.

"We are here for a friend of mine," My mother offered as a form of explanation, her tone almost clipped, like she didn't want to tell me anything.

I frowned. "What's wrong with her?" My mother was usually very open with me. Why the secretive nature now?

"Well, she's regressed." I stared, that meant nothing to me. "When we went to school together, when we were younger, she was a very sickly child," She explained through an exasperated sigh. "She had leukemia. And then she got better for a while, but now it seems like its resurfaced again and I'm the only one who knows. And that's why we are here; she's receiving emergency treatment and needed someone by her side. Since the treatment sometimes makes her sick, which is expected at times but it seems like this time it's more than she can bear."

"Oh…" I didn't know what else to say. This was a subject I didn't know much about. I only knew that leukemia was a form of cancer from what I had heard. I didn't like to think about death. "What about her family?" I asked quietly, which caused my mother to look very, very sad for some reason.

"They don't know anything," She confessed sadly, turning her face and searching mine with her incredibly sad eyes.

"Why not?" I was afraid to ask, given my mother's expression, but I had to. There was something within me telling me that this was something I needed to know, even if I didn't understand it.

"I don't know," My mother sighed, looking troubled and deep in thought. We had stopped walking all together. "Maybe because she's too proud and stubborn?" She chuckled darkly. I shivered, never having heard or seen my mother like this. "But I guess, she just doesn't want her little girl to see her any different than she does now… Come, we should hurry."

Lost in thought, I blindly followed my mother as she made a beeline toward the receptionists' half-moon desk, which was smack in the center of the lobby. Trying not to think any further, I took in our busy surrounding. There were many doctors walking back and forth, white lab coats bellowing in the wake of their haste. Patients, some walking and others in wheelchairs alone or with family, dragging their IV's along as they tried to convince their loved ones and doctors that they were strong enough to go outside for some fresh air.

"Excuse me?" I glanced over at my mother when I heard her speak. Having reached the half-moon desk, clustered with the ongoing traffic of nurses coming and going, she stood a foot away from me trying to catch the attention of the receptionist.

"Yes?" The receptionist nurse looked up, setting her watery eyes on my mother and me, smiling blandly though trying to make it look inviting. I almost grimaced. "How may I be of service?"

"I believe my friend, Dwyer, Renée was admitted here today to receive treatment?" My mother informed the nurse as I joined her at the desk to her right.

"Dwyer, Renée," The nurse muttered to herself as she began typing on the keyboard, looking her up, I assumed.

"If so, I would like to visit and perhaps bring her home?"

"Please write your name on the visitors' log," She indicated, pushing the clipboard over the wide countertop toward us.

"I'll do it," I offered. My mother smiled thankfully at me and nodded her go ahead. Taking the offered clipboard in hand, I began scribbling down our names, the date, and the hour of our visit.

"What is your name?" The nurse asked next.

"Athenodora Faidon and this is my son, Peter Faidon,**" **My mother provided readily without reservations, inhibitions, or blinking for that matter. Something told me she was very used to doing this, that it wasn't her first time having to come to her friend's rescue. This was a side of my mother I had never seen before and was finding quite intriguing as well.

"And how old is he?"

"He's ten."

There was an answering grunt. "Very well, here you go." I turned my eyes towards the nurse with her gravelly voice to see her hand over something to my mother.

"Thank you." My mother broke it in half and handed the other half to me. It was a name tag written in _Sharpie_. Looking to my mother, I noted that she placed her over her left breast and I followed suit.

"Here she is, Dwyer, Renée," The nurse's gravelly voice announced, demanding that we give her our full attention once again. "She's just down this hallway behind me to your left, room B322, fifth door on your right of the Cancer Wing. The doctor should be just finishing up her aftercare check-up so you might have to wait a moment, but it should be fine to be in the room while he's in there."

"Thank you," Both my mom and I said as we went in the direction she had sent us.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p>Sighing heavily and filled with trepidation, as if my fate would be sealed if I so much as stepped into this unknown friend of my mom's room, I wished I could be somewhere other than here with my mother.<p>

"Come in, Peter," My mother hissed at me under her breath as I yet again hesitated.

" Athenodora, is that you?" I heard a small, weak voice say and watched as my mother's face brightened, lighting up with a sincere smile.

"The one and only!"

"Athena!" Her friend weakly squealed, gleeful.

"I haven't been called that in a while!" My mother mused as I finally talked myself into walking into the room. "It's so good to see you! You look healthy as ever too." She winked and her friend chuckled, the sarcasm not lost on her.

"You know me, the picture of health," Renée sighed airily. "You are a sight for sore eyes, Athena…"

Nothing could have prepared me for the sight of the woman lying weakly on that hospital bed and dressed in an itchy hospital gown. I knew her. I mean, not knew her, _knew _her, but seen her enough times to recognize her upon sight. Only I recognized her by another last name, _Swan. _Renée Swan, as in Isabella Swan's volatile mother and the Chief's ex wife. _My _Bella's mother!

"Honestly, you haven't changed," My mother said, roving over Mrs. Swan's face with scrutiny. "You've aged well, Dwyer."

"Thank you," Mrs. Swan chuckled shyly as her eyes landed on me. I froze. Caught like a deer in the headlights. "And who's this?"

"Oh, that's just my son, Peter," My mother introduced, looking fondly over her shoulder at me. "You remember Peter, right?"

"Hello," I smiled politely. And hoped that she wouldn't recognize me, only, she did.

"I saw you at my daughter's birthday party."

It wasn't a question. Still, I nodded, "Yes, Mrs. Swan." She nodded to herself, lost in thought.

"What's this?" My mother asked eyes inquiringly on me. "I haven't heard anything about this," My mother pouted, glancing between Mrs. Swan and me. "You never mentioned you knew Bella."

I grimaced, managing half a smile. _And apparently you know her too, you never mentioned that, _I couldn't help but think.

A second later Mrs. Swan's eyes met mine and she smiled warmly at me.

"No wonder you looked so familiar… You are Athena's son!" She marveled. "Bella is very fond of you, you know." I flushed, content and beyond giddy in spite of the uncomfortable situation. "And you are very fond of her, I see. But I already knew that." She chuckled and my mother was looking at me with promises of a very long talk to come later on. I nodded, agreeing and accepting my fate.

"Talking about Bella…" My mother trailed off, glancing my way to glare at me. "How is she? I haven't seen that pretty head of hers since she turned three!"

"She's probably crying right now," Renée whispered sadly. My head jerked to her, eyes frantic. But Mrs. Swan wouldn't meet my gaze. Instead, she closed her eyes as tears fell down her temple and onto her pillow.

"Why, what happened?" I asked hoarsely before my mother could.

"Because I've failed her once again," She admitted constricted, more tears spilling. This was the first time I'd ever spied Renée Swan, the woman and mother, and she was a pitiful sight to behold, though quite marvelous. "She probably thinks I've forgotten her and I'm doing something shameless and selfish." In the heat of the moment, I wished Bella was here to witness her mother at her best, while at her worst. Funny how that works out.

"Where's Bella Renée?" My mother asked her, worried. I was glad she had, because I had lost the ability to speak momentarily. "Isn't she supposed to be with her father?"

I looked to my mother, alarmed and surprised. _How did my mother know this?_

Renée shook her head. "No, I was supposed to go get her from…" Mrs. Swan looked sick and pale suddenly. "…from her ballet class," She managed to add before she grabbed the container next to her head and began throwing up.

My mother waited. When Renée was done being sick she asked, "Did you make other arrangements with her father?" Negative. "How come, that's so irresponsible, Renée, really…"

"It's not what you think," Renée managed weakly. "This," She motioned to the room at large, "happened quite unexpectedly."

"Shit, Renée," My mother cursed, quite obviously that I was still in the room.

"I had been on my way to pick her up from school when the vertigo hit me and I blacked out," She explained. "Next thing I know, I wake up here and they tell me they'd called you. You were my only emergency contact, sorry."

"There's no need to apologize," My mom dismissed. "But how can I help with Bella? Do you want me to go pick her up?"

"Would you?" Renée sounded hopeful. _I _was hopeful and at my wits end, frightened for Bella. The image of Bella crying, somewhere on her own, so vivid and real that it felt like a knife, piercing and twisting in my gut and making my heart ache.

"I'm here aren't eye," My mother pointed out irritated. "Put me to some use will you? I won't tell her anything, promise." My mother glanced over at me. She looked worried. Maybe because I felt clammy and I was sure I was trembling. "Peter won't say anything either, we'll keep your secret. Right, Peter?"

"Yes," I barely managed to croak out, feeling sick myself.

"That would be nice…" She mused, breathing heavily. "Tell her something so that she won't hate me?" It was a feeble request that my mother and I couldn't turn down, we agreed.

"But you know, letting her know the truth would be better," My mother advised.

Vehemently, Renée shook her head. "No, I'd preferred she hate me instead than to see me this weak…"

"We understand," I spoke up. My mother looked at me in surprise. "I won't say anything to Bella, promise. Just, where is she?"

"You know that book store, _Weber's Webb of Books_?" We nodded earnestly. "She will go there. That's where she likes to wait for me to pick her up. Her best friend's mother owns the shop." _Angela_, I though, feeling instantly calmer. "You can talk with her, Eleanor, and get in touch… with… Charles." She was getting tired, her sentences were becoming too much of a hassle to get out, I realized.

"We'll check there first then," My mother agreed readily. "I can't check you out today, doctor's orders."

Reneee shrugged, uncaring. "Just find… my… baby… …and… keep her… safe." Silently, I vowed I would. I was ten but that didn't mean I couldn't.

"I'll swing by to do so tomorrow, okay? Rest up; Peter and I will take care of everything."

"Okay," Renée sighed, exhausted, and just as soon fell asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Wait for me Bella. Dry your tears and wait for me, soon you'll be safe and in my arms. Soon, I'll be your Knight. Just wait for me… <em>It was all I could pray for as we sped towards Bella. And not for the first time in a while, I wished I was older and wiser with the right words to say ready to be spoken within my mouth.

Once again, I found myself powerless to do anything about my wants and wishes. Only, I would do everything within my power and reach to make sure that all of Bella's wants would be met and that all of her wishes came true. If I couldn't do it for myself, I was sure I could do it for her. For the girl I _love_.

_ Sheesh! Just _thinking_ that I love her makes me blush like crazy! How will I ever be able to tell her that I _love_ her like crazy, if I can't keep it together while thinking about the fact?_

But then, what about what I just learned about her mother? _She'd hate me forever if she ever found out that I knew and didn't tell her, wouldn't she? _I hoped not. _That would stop my heart and crush my soul… _I shuddered at the thought. _I'll worry about that day when it comes, if it comes. For now, I made a promise to her mother and I will keep it, no matter what. _

_ If we get to her on time today, _I thought nervously, _I'll tell her that I love her the day of my birthday. It's only five days away, after all…_

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><em><strong> AN: **__This chapter is shorter than all the other but nonetheless significant. However, though I could have made it longer, I needed it to stand less clustered without the messy array of different PoV's so that the feel I was trying to convey would stay throughout until the very end. Hope you've enjoyed it. Just let me know what you think? Thank you! Read and Review, people, I really appreciate it, it fuels my writer's mind!_


	12. Colliding Into Destiny

_**Once Upon a Time;**_

**Peter's **_** PoV**_

_** Wednesday, October 8, 2:45pm**_

Wait for me Bella. Dry your tears and wait for me, soon you'll be safe and in my arms. Soon, I'll be your Knight. Just wait for me… _It was all I could pray for as we sped towards Bella. And not for the first time in a while, I wished I was older and wiser with the right words to say ready to be spoken within my mouth._

_ Once again, I found myself powerless to do anything about my wants and wishes. Only, I would do everything within my power and reach to make sure that all of Bella's wants would be met and that all of her wishes came true. If I couldn't do it for myself, I was sure I could do it for her. For the girl I love._

Sheesh! _Just thinking that I love her makes me blush like crazy! How will I ever be able to tell her that I love her like crazy, if I can't keep it together while thinking about the fact?_

_ But then, what about what I just learned about her mother? She'd hate me forever if she ever found out that I knew and didn't tell her, wouldn't she? I hoped not. That would stop my heart and crush my soul… I shuddered at the thought. I'll worry about that day when it comes, if it comes. For now, I made a promise to her mother and I will keep it, no matter what._

_ If we get to her on time today, I thought nervously, I'll tell her that I love her the day of my birthday. It's only five days away, after all…_

* * *

><p><em><strong>oOo<strong>_

* * *

><p><strong>Scouting for Prince Charming<strong>

** Tale XI:**

** Colliding Into Destiny**

**James' PoV**

_**Thursday, October 9, 3:00pm**_

_I can't believe it's been little more than over a year since I first met her… give or take a few months._

Frowning slightly, I lift my head off of the steering wheel and with a protesting groan ready on my lips, open my eyes slowly and slightly squint, cringing away from the abrupt brightness of the late afternoon sunlight dimly shinning through all the windows and into the front seats of my car. Eyes stinging and head pounding, I try to think of what, or rather, _who _managed to disturb my recently found peace.

_Was there someone calling my name just a moment ago? But that shouldn't be…_

"James?" My eyes narrow. _I think I might be hallucinating._ Because I could suddenly hear Victoria Olóige's voice calling me, trying to gain my attention.

_That shouldn't be, unless… _I look to my left, hoping beyond hope that there's no one sitting in my passenger seat, but to no avail. Victoria's sitting there; her green eyes gleaming vibrantly with ambiguous expectancy. After a perplexing moment, my own eyes begin to register and recognize her slightly freckled complexion. I groan inwardly, _just what I needed._

"Hey," Victoria greets, giving me a peck on the lips. _Yes, this is the real Olóige._

_When did she get here? _I wonder absentmindedly. _How come I never even heard her open and close the damned door? Has she been here long? _I hope answers wouldn't matter anyway, now that my solitude has been breached.

However, I did want to know, what did a teenager like me have to do to get more than half an hour to himself without a chatterbox of a self-proclaimed girlfriend popping out at inopportune moments?

Sell his soul to the Devil? _It's open for discussion, if that's the case. I'm a flexible and accommodating guy…_

"What, Olóige?" I demand through a heavy sigh, thoroughly annoyed. Victoria's lips purse in a way that I'm sure was supposed to be cute but it doesn't come across that way, rather it irks me. I'd been thinking about Bella, I never appreciate being interrupted when I'm thinking about her, especially not by Victoria of all people.

Particularly when I'd been previously seating all by my lonesome self inside my brand new car, with the engine off and just my thoughts for company for a while now, while parked at _St. Cullen's _student parking lot. And I'd been positively sure that no one had come with me. That is, until now.

_Doesn't she get that she's something to fuck when I'm bored and nothing more? _I wonder idly and irritably. _Besides, can't she read the mood? Do I have a sign on my forehead that says 'Come Find Me When I'm Gone' or some other bullshit? _

"Fokionas-Faidon, I've been calling your name for a while now, actually," Victoria points out and a taunting smile spreads across her thin lips, further thinning them. _That answers that question._

I sigh, feeling a migraine coming on. "Sorry," I say untruthfully. Not that she'd notice. "I was lost in thought." _Which don't revolve around you._

"You don't need to be fantasizing about me," Victoria whispers huskily against my left ear and further leaning over the middle console, she nibbles confidently on my earlobe, taking it between her teeth and tugging before adding, "Not when I'm right here."

_I hate it when she does that._

"Is that so," I grit out. _If only that was the case, _I think mockingly, spying that trademark sneer of hers underneath that mane of fiery red she calls hair and electrifying green eyes.

"All you need to do is ask." I'm not reassured, impressed, interested, or entertained by her obnoxious offer. _At. All. _

Then again, this is probably my fault. All I've ever wanted out of a relationship has been the physical and sexual aspect of the relationship with no strings attached. That's why I've only ever wanted and dated older women, which is where Victoria comes in. But Victoria being who and how she is, she's _always_ pushing my buttons and wanting for more than I'm willing to give.

"Well, I'm not asking." I'm as polite as can be when I say this, too. "I want to be alone, Vicky." I admit. "Can you please leave?"

Victoria looks fairly disappointed and a little affronted for a moment, _like a bitch without a bone_.

Barely managing not to snort at my own musings, I meet her incessant green eyes dead on, a warning that she doesn't heed shining in my autumn colored ones. Feeling something warm and evasive running over my left thigh, I glance down to find her hands and finger greedily groping and going for my junk.

"You know you want it." Victoria has tenacity and perseverance going for her, I give her that. Still, that doesn't take away the fact that I'm disgusted by her every action right now, as she uses her most sultry voice yet and adds, "_I _know you want it…"

_Like hell you do. _"I'm not in the mood for it right now," I tell her slowly. Then effectively stopping her advances and placing my fingers firmly over her wrist, putting enough pressure behind it to let her know that I'm not playing one of her sick little sex games at the moment.

My eyes never quit hers, keeping the eye contact long after she's retrieved her icky fingers and finally keeps them to herself; it's all about getting my point across and leaving no room for later misunderstandings.

Besides, I'm not in the mood to break in and christen with debauchery, of all things, the custom new leather seats of my brand new baby, a 1969 Aston Martin DBS V8 -a four-seat- grand touring car in cobalt, a birthday present courtesy of my father. At least not just yet and not when all I can think about is sweet, innocent, little, doe-eyed Bella.

At the thought of Bella I run an almost aggressive hand through my hair and dishevel its smoothed back appearance. _I really need a haircut, _I note distractingly. _Why does she know Whitlock and my little cousin Peter? How and when did she meet Peter? He seems to know her much too well for my taste. _

_ Shit, why Peter? I can't touch Peter, which in turn makes me more of an ass when it comes to Whitlock… I really am taking out my frustrations on him, aren't I? Because there's my cousin, the one person I'm positive is pursuing Bella, whom I can't retaliate on, Whitlock becomes the obvious fall guy who takes double penalty. _

_ Unfortunately, I don't even know if he's into her like that… _ _**She's into him like that, Bella is,**_ my mind sneers and I have to grip the steering wheel tightly to keep myself from throwing a tantrum. Instead, I settle for a scowl.

"Don't you love me?" Victoria's grassy, green eyes widen in wanton realization, her question effectively bringing me back to the here and now. "Are you cheating on me?"

_ No and no, I'm just obsessed with an eight year old girl. __**Admitting your problem is the first step to recovery, Jamie, or whatever, **_My consciousness seems to mock_. _Once again, I'm gripping the steering wheel so tightly that I'm forced to watch my knuckles go white and then grow numb from lack of blood circulation. Forcing myself to let go, I feel as my hand regains its sensitivity with a pricking sensation that ebbs at the numbness.

I scowl. "Sure I do." I roll my eyes at her in answer to her first question. _If she buys that, she's a fool. _"When do I have the fucking time to cheat on you anyway?" _Like a shark. _"You're always around," I reason, bored with her already.

"Sorry, you're right…"

"Whatever. Just give me some credit where it's deserved woman, damn." Victoria actually has the sense to actually look slightly embarrassed. "I might be an asshole but I'm a one woman asshole, at least give me _that_." Surprisingly enough, I'm not as riled up as I should been. Just bordering irritated.

"Then, you can't get it up?" I look at her pointedly, wary. _Victoria trying to look all innocent doesn't work for you._ "What?" She's fuming and there was no stopping her now. "If not, then why the hell not?"

"Oh," I chuckle condescendingly, "I can get it up, when the occasion _arises_." Lame joke, I know. Still, it usually works ninety percent of the time. On the other hand, this time is one of the rare and improbable ten percent pie chart moments in which it _wouldn't _work. _Lucky me!_

Victoria's eyes narrow, flashing an olive undertone, which tells me that I'm trading into dangerous grounds. Usually, seeing her all riled up gets me turned on, but that just isn't doing it for me today.

Right now, I want nothing more than to be alone with my thoughts for once and think about Isabella Swan. Her eyes, big and brown, and mahogany hair, full of subtle waves, the smoky tenor of her voice, her clumsy grace, and the flawless ivory of her skin, all of it invites me in and asks me to be patient. _Just a couple more years…_

_And why does she have to know my little cousin out of all the little cousins in the world. I can't do anything to the little bugger! I can't threaten or scare him into leaving her alone. I can't tell him she'll be mine, that I'm waiting for her to be ready for me. _

"I'm practically throwing myself at you here!" She protests indignantly, eyes still slits. I practically crawl out of my skin at the sound of Victoria's voice, I'd been so absorbed in my own spiraling thoughts, and I'd nearly forgotten she's still here.

"I didn't ask you to now, did I?" I counter calmly.

"What is wrong with you?" Victoria rants some more, without so much as giving me a word in again. "You haven't been in the mood for a while now." Her perfectly waxed brow arches. "Where I come from, that's insulting." Suddenly, she sneers evilly and I prepare myself as she goes on, saying, "What? This young and your junk's already malfunctioning and gone flaccid on you?"

_Typical Victoria, _I don't know why I bother_. _It is my turn to glare indignantly at her. "You should know," I sputter, "Since you're supposed to be the talented one in that department." She gapes. I sneer. "I think you're losing your touch and that's why my dick won't come out to wave hello for you." I shrug like I can't help it. Honestly, I can't. "Ever think of that, _bitch_?"

"Whatever!" Victoria screeches and I swear the windows of my car almost shatter from the sharp decibel. I flinch. "I'm out of here," She proclaims, opening her side of the door and stepping out of the car.

"Don't let me stop you." Just as I'd hoped, she's finally leaving. "And careful, don't let the door bite you in the ass on your way out." _Take that! _

"You know what?" Victoria bends down at the waist and intently glares at me through the open door. "I don't know why I even bother." I stare at her expectantly, not saying a word. "You aren't that great a _fuck _anyway!"

I chuckle, I can't help if, and that makes Vicky furious. "Now, you and I both know that that's a lie!_" _I laugh, audaciously.

With a final death glare in my direction and flaring nostrils, Victoria straightens up, slams the door to my baby, does an about-face, flips me the birdie over her shoulder, and leaves. Meanwhile, I can't help but watch her walk away with a satisfactory smirk on my lips as her hips sashay back and forth with her every furious stride, and her hair billows behind her like her own personal manifestation of flames that showcased just how pissed off she is.

I'm not worried. In fact, I know that tomorrow will come and she will drag her ass my way and beg me to take her back, saying that she didn't mean it, and blah, _fucking_, blah… Shaking my head, I snort and try not to chuckle.

Victoria always has to have the last word, no matter what. During moments like this, I marvel at the fact that she is seventeen, a year older than I, and still behaves much more childish than I ever could. _And they say girls mature faster than boys,_ I scoff indignantly. _I hope not all girls are like Victoria, less the world's future has much to fear for._

_Enough about Victoria,_ _I should dump her ass, _I think bitterly before going back to my previous musings of Isabella, right where I left off before Victoria interrupted. With my forehead resting once again on the now cool steering wheel, I sigh contently. Glad that it's just me, my Aston Martin, and my solitude for company, there's no one to disturb me. _Finally. _

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

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><p><em><strong> Wednesday, August 13, 6:22pm<strong>_

Getting up from my espresso stain, solid kiln-dried hardwood desk, I take long purposeful strides that quickly take me to my bedroom door and away from my insurmountable amount of homework for a much needed break. Given, I've found out that being a junior isn't easy or as fun as I thought at first in my naivety it would be.

Stepping through the threshold of my bedroom door and leaving the four grey heather colored walls of my bedroom, I make a quick last minute decision and decide to grab some quick grub to stop my stomach's growling complaints before it starts eating itself. Destination -_kitchen_. _Damn, I'm famished! _

Nodding my assertion, I can't make my feet move fast enough as I hang a right and head down the small corridor that takes me to the second floor landing. Once there, I walk swiftly pass a cream and blue vase atop the very center of a dark oak coffee table with an ivory runner that decorates the otherwise empty landing and begin my descent in the direction of the kitchen.

Quickly descending down the left side of the semi oval marbled staircases on bare feet, I hang a quick left as I reach the bottom first landing and head toward the kitchen to beg Laurent Fournier, our current chef, for some much needed food.

"Jamie!" I screech to a halt as I hear my mother call from the foyer, without giving me so much as a moment to execute well thought-out plan.

"Yes mother?" I grumble irritably, she knows I _hate _that nickname. Backtracking until I'm at the very center of the foyer, I see my mother coming through the double door entrance to the guest dining room and she smiles at me sweetly, taking in my appearance with her motherly gaze.

"You're hungry, aren't you?" My mother observes with a trained eye.

I smile bashfully. "What gave me away?"

"You're grumbling," My mother says, ruffling my blond hair so similar to hers. "You always grumble when you are hungry," Mom chuckles fondly and still messing with my hair, adds, "Been that way since the very beginning."

"Mom!" I protest. "I'm not a little kid anymore!" For a moment I'm so embarrassed that all I can do is, try and will the blush burning at the tips of my ears to go away and muss my hair back into place. My mother knows me too well.

"You'll always be my baby," My mother counters dotingly, making me cringe.

"Mom!" I whine as she kisses the top of my head and giggling as she goes, continues to further embarrass me by peppering my face with more kisses. Secretly, I love these moments. Outwardly, not so much, it obliterates my asshole-ish and cool-ish image out the window and into oblivion. "Can't you just tell me what you needed me for?" I plead, "Before you smother me in cooties?" Mom kisses my nose. "Eeww… I've got cooties!" I make a point of cooing for my mother's entertainment, making her smile.

"Can you be a dear and fetch me the mail?" Mom asks, finally getting down to business. "And while you do that, I'll go to the kitchen and ask Laurent to make something for you?" It would have been better if she'd offered to prepare something herself, but I don't object.

Instead, I find myself complying, saying, "Sure, mom. Where are the keys?"

"Thank you, darling," She beams and hands over the keys. "There you go."

"Be back in a few…"

My mother called after me, "What about your shoes?"

"I'll be fine!" I shouted over my shoulder and ran outside in the direction of the mailbox.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p>On my way back from the mailbox and into the house, I shuffled through the many envelopes in my hand in case there was something for me in the mail. Since I've been applying for college applications and all kinds of scholarships, the possibilities were high. However, just when I was about to give up, my eyes scanned over the name <em>Isabella Marie Swan <em>and I froze on the spot, holding the thick envelope to my face in blatant disbelief.

Unable to stop myself, I opened the letter, not caring that it wasn't addressed to me, and found that it was a birthday party invitation for my little sister Charlotte, Lottie, exactly a month from today. Right then and there, I decided that my sister was so going to attend Bella's birthday party, even if I had to drive her myself.

For once, I didn't need to find an excuse to see Bella, I had been handed one in the form of a thick envelope with a _cordial _invitation extended to my sister and her _family_. _I'm _my sister's family! I could weep with joy!

Sure, it was a month away but the surer I grew in my ongoing feelings for Bella, the undertaking of effortlessly conquering my usual impatience seemed doable. By the end of this passage, I would be a Master Jedi of patience, I was sure. And it would all be worth it, if Bella could only view me the same way I constantly view her.

With a new bounce in my step, I sauntered back inside my home, handed over the rest of the letters to my mom, made a quick appearance by the kitchen, thanked Laurent for the awesome, fully loaded sandwich, made my way back upstairs, eating as I went, and proceeded to find my Lottie.

"Sister, dear!" I greeted, slamming her door open and wolfing down the rest of my sandwich, I intruded upon Lottie's crowning colored room. After the startled shock faded from her face, Lottie eyed me suspiciously with one brow raised. "What?" I chuckled.

"You're in a good mood…" Charlotte observed, sitting cross-legged in the middle of her four-poster bed.

"I am," I agree, my smile widening. I was probably going to regret all this smiling tomorrow when my jaw starts to ache from over usage, but right now, I didn't care and so I smiled with abandon.

As Lottie fixed her eyes on me, she looked troubled. Lastly, she took a deep breath and outright asked, "What do you want? Spit it out, Jam."

My smile widened and I was sure I was frightening her but I didn't care. Moving deeper into my sister's room, I sat at the edge of her bed and handed Bella's invitation over to her, almost finding it unbearable to part with.

Charlotte took the invitation from my hands gingerly and began to read its content, her face brightening. She looked back up to me with a smile that soon faltered and turned into a frown. "I don't understand…" Lottie whispered, before her eyes lit up with understanding. "Bella…" She breathed, fixing me with a steady gaze.

My heart galloped ahead of me at the sound of my beautiful girl's name on my sister's mouth. "Bella," I breathed, agreeing.

"You want to go, don't you?" She guessed and I eagerly nodded.

"I'll take you and stay with you…" I offered lamely, seeing the look on her face.

"You know," She sighed, "I don't really think Bella likes you."

That stung. "Thank you captain _obvious_," I hissed at my sister, angrily standing from her bed and pacing.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," Lottie amended, patting the spot I had just abandoned, silently telling me to sit my ass back down. I did, sinking into her bead with a heaving sigh.

"Wh- why do you think she doesn't like me?" I wanted to know, my voice a hush.

"I don't know…" Lottie admitted, trailing off. "Maybe, because she hasn't gotten the chance to know you? You can be kind of intense, brother dear, did you know?" She offered, smiling sadly.

I nodded, accepting her reasoning. "What do you think I should do?" I wondered desperately. Later, I would probably chide myself for going to my _younger _sister for advice, but that would be much later, this was _now_.

"Well, for starters, we have a party to look forward to!" Lottie said in a blatant attempt to cheer me up. But it worked; my little sister had effectively brought that goofy smile back to my face. "Now, get out of my room!" She shooed, "This is a _girl's_ zone _only_. No _boys _allowed!"

I snorted as I went, laughing at my sister's antics. "Love you Lottie!"

"Yeah, yeah…" I waited patiently, walking deliberately slow. "Love you too Jamie!"

_Second best day of my life,_ second only to the first time I laid my eyes on Bella.

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p>The very first time I'd met Bella, she'd been accompanying her father, Chief Swan, while he did a thorough inspection of our estate. Apparently, since he couldn't take his work home, the Chief had to bring his home to work, hence Bella.<p>

At first, I didn't know she was even in the house because she had been following her father around without saying a word, observing with fascinated eyes as her hero, her father, worked. You could say meeting Bella was like an impending collision. I didn't know what hit me until I was too late, by then I had already rammed head first, blindly into our intertwined fates.

But when I did notice her, something deep within told me that she would be the bane of my existence if I so much as made eye contact with her. Of course, I avoided her like the plague. If her and her father entered a room I was in, I was sure to follow out just as soon as they'd come in.

I managed to keep that up for three days out of four that she came into our home consecutively. On the fourth day, she caught me unawares as I went to get some breakfast from the kitchen before the Swan's would arrive. Just as I'd gone to push the kitchen's swinging door open, I knew something was wrong because it kind of went to open inwards, but then came swinging right back to me and hit me square on the face.

Only then did I realize that I had hit her first on the other side of the swinging door when she was trying to exit the kitchen, having just finished having breakfast in our kitchen. I couldn't apologize enough. But when I went to help her up, I froze mid motion, when her eyes met mine and her lips formed words or sentences, I wouldn't know, and then turned into a painful little smile.

All the same, I tried to clear up the fog clouding and flogging my brain as I followed through in my original plan; helping miniature Swan stand. Boy had that been a shocking mistake. As soon as her little hand was captive in mine, it felt too hot to the touch, like she was burning up with a fever that should have killed her where she stood. Only it wasn't doing that, it just kept making her hotter and hotter to my touch. Until I couldn't handle it and I was forced let go, before she even managed to pull her weight, causing her to stumble down on her ass again.

With many apologies falling from my lips, I had walked away without even helping her up, heart racing and face burning, racing to find refuge in the sanctuary of my room. But even though I'd managed to escape her physical manifestation, I couldn't escape the one that my mind kept conjuring up every minute my mind strayed too far. And boy did my mind wander, it still does.

I had no idea then, but she had been only seven at the time, and she didn't act like any seven years old I'd ever met, including my estranged little sister. Somehow she'd fixed those doe eyes of hers on me and I've been a goner since.

One of the first thoughts to filter through my brain as I took in her undeniable beauty, and at such a young age, was how in denial I was as I'd tried not to admire her. Bella was wrapped in beauty, from her alabaster skin, small frame, big, brown doe eyes, and thick, full long locks of richest brunette cascading down her small back in ripples that billow slightly with the wind to create an ethereal effect. _Fucking _beautiful.

To say I'd been entranced and awed would be a severe understatement. My sister had to kick me in the shin to make me quit my brazen gaping every time she was around. Isabella Swan had me wrapped around her little finger and following her around like a little lost puppy that'd just found his way, before she'd even said so much as a word of 'hello' to me.

My first instinctual reaction was to recoil and ignore her. Before her, I'd never believed in witchcraft, much less love at first sight! Therefore, you can imagine that what ensued thereafter. A series of pathetic and embarrassing episodes in which I'd made an ass of myself in front of a little girl, and ended up getting nowhere with my plans of silent retaliation.

Around that time, I finally caved, and fell victim to her deadly siren call. For the time being, now and again I try to find an excuse, or a 'coincidence', that allows me to be near enough to hear, feel, and follow her call, the one that's my own. In anticipation of the day when I will be openly able to pursue Bella, I have been biding my time with simply watching over her and making sure that no one touches her.

I can't have that now, can I? Consequently, any moronic dog who so much as dares to sniff her way will have me to answer to me, before it can so much as bark or piss on her direction. Being the kind of obsessive teen I am, I take my task seriously to heart and anything done against Bella will become personal.

So you can imagine my unpleasant surprise, when I saw _my _Isabella dancing and gleefully laughing in the arms of none other than Jasper Hadrian Whitlock. Hot Momma, Rosalie Hale's, bastard child and _St. Cullen's _resident eyesore in my opinion. Crude summarization aside, It was common knowledge, honestly.

Along with that fellow Emmett something or other, whose mother was apparently someone famous and could always be seen following Jasper around like his own personal tail, or bodyguard. As of recent, the buffoon had become more bodyguard than tail, still, not the head. I tended to address them as Left testicle and Right testicle. And depending on my mood, I would switch it around and keep it interesting. According to them, since they were the testicles that automatically made me the _dick_. You could say they somewhat bettered my joke and used it against me.

Honestly, it had taken all of my will power and fist clenching not to get between Bella and Jasper the dance floor. I had been craving and itching to land a blow on Jasper with all of my pent up emotions that would leave him toothless.

Unfortunately for me, he was lucky the Chief, my mother, my sister, his mother, and Isabella were all constantly there, hovering all around him as if he was the Sun of our _fucking _solar system. Otherwise, I wouldn't have hesitated twice to hit him and fix him a new one.

Even so, I had my mind made up the next second to give him a nice and fair warning the next time I fixed my eyes on him at school. Hopefully the coming Monday would be opportune. But then, by the time I had come to terms with how to proceed from there, Peter came into the picture. Sauntering all the way up to Bella with confidence and being paid the warmest reception I'd seen her bestow on anyone.

Right then and there, I knew that trouble was a foot in Bella's and my future. And I needed a way to fix it, if I wanted to salvage the chance at an opportunity.

_Like they say, when a collision happens, your life flashes before your eyes… __Isabella Swan is __mine._

* * *

><p><strong>oOo<strong>

* * *

><p><em><strong> AN: **__This chapter was a hard one to write, I've never tried writing from James' PoV before so it was all new and foreign. Meaning, I had trouble grasping on to his character fully. So please, don't be too hard on me this time around if his PoV came out a little distorted, I'll do better on the next one. Promise. Please, let me know what you all think, I'm sweating it here! Read and Review, they make me happy and make me want to write!_


	13. Toxin Love

_**Once Upon a Time;**_

**James' **_** PoV**_

_Right then and there, I knew that trouble was a foot in Bella's and my future. And I needed a way to fix it, if I wanted to salvage the chance at an opportunity. _

Like they say, when a collision happens, your life flashes before your eyes… Isabella Swan is mine.

* * *

><p><em><strong>...<strong>_

_**...**_

* * *

><p><strong>Scouting for Prince Charming<strong>

** Tale XII:**

** Toxin Love **

**Renée's PoV **

_Poison_, that's what a parent's love is like. Slowly and in small dosages, from the moment our children are born, parents feed their little ones all of their unrealized, dead dreams that never saw the light of day and in the hopes that the dream might still live on through them, we unconsciously poisoning them in the process. Until, eventually, the poison becomes part of their system and they are immune...

V_enom_, what has been running and coursing through my veins since the tender age of four, when it first started eating at my defenses, killing me from the inside out, and slowly with its morbid disintegration, showed me that innocence is something lost before you even have a chance to give it.

_Venomous_… that which keeps on resurfacing just when I think I'm in the clear. From age four until six I fought against the leukemia and I came out victorious… Finally, I was seven and everyone seemed to have forgotten that I used to be the sickly child and I was so happy. Because, for once, I was going to have a normal childhood and my eighth birthday was but a week away…

Lethargic breathing, shifting shadows, heavy eyelids, fluttering in protest against the florescent lights that burned my corneas, porcelain pieces of the sink strewn and scattered, broken all over the tile floor of the bathroom and under my limp body in a beautiful chaos. And I, lying amidst the chaos, feeling sweaty and sticky, crying with resentment and anger in a puddle of my own blood.

Nothing about its normal appearance would let you know this by looking at it, but it is the very blood that's been trying to kill me since I was three, and finally got diagnosed with _Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia_ at the age of four, and was now deciding to come back with a vengeance. Bitter tears cleared a path down my bloodied cheeks; it had to come back and attack, of course, just _three_ days from my eighth birthday.

Once again, I was the sickly child, skin too pale and drawn, which my parents through eyes that spilled out pity tried to convince me to see as _fair _skin. Eyes, permanently gaunt and blotted with dark circles, due to sleepless nights in which I fought tooth and nail through the insistent shivers, the fevers, the bile, the lurching, the tears, and the pain without respite and no one to hear the muted cries…

_Resentment_, for anyone who looked at me through eyes of pity because I was and I am a victim of something I have no control over. _Can't they see I'm _fighting _and that makes their misplaced pity void?_ Growing stronger in mind and resolve with each day that passed and my body grew weaker; I fought that much harder against my enemy, the leukemia. I refused to give into its beckoning hold. _I wanted to live and do things like other kids did and I wanted to have a birthday party… without fear of _exerting _myself…_

Thirteen and things were looking up again, I had fought much harder than before and I had come out victorious again. This time, this time I was sure was going to be the last time I had to fight and lose so much of my life to this damned aliment that went by the alias _leikemia. _Another year went by and… I was still healthy and there was a delicate semblance of normalcy everywhere I went.

Eventually, I entered high school in another city, in fact, another state and no one knew me, except for Athenodora, who had moved out here two years prior. But just when I was about to panic, she promised to keep my secret, having seen me through the worse of it before, when she'd still been my friend. Once again, our bond became strong and five years went by in which I was still healthy and we saw each other through high school, boys, falling in love, marrying, and…

* * *

><p><strong>...<strong>

* * *

><p><em>Miracles<em>, Devine interventions, something that rarely happens… but somehow, I had previously been the subject of _two_, a rarity in and of itself. Therefore, the probability of a third miracle happening to me was something unthinkable and beyond my reach, which was why I had resigned myself to the probability that I would _never _get the chance to be a mother and give my husband the gift of being called a father.

My understanding husband had comforted me and had accepted the fact that it was something that would never happen between us, and yet, he still loved me and I loved him all that more dearly for that. Still, I _longed_ for it… I was now twenty-five, still unbelievably healthy, and that's when my _third_ miracle happened… a _child_, I had been bestowed the honor of being with child!

The news overjoyed my husband, who understood how much this meant to me, to us and it made him slightly insecure, which was a sentiment we both shared. Having come from homes where we'd been only children. Through it all, we were terrified and took as many tests and went to as many doctors visits to ensure that our little bundle of joy and miracle would be born healthy and hopefully wouldn't inherit anything of mine…

_Fear_, as soon as the thought crossed my mind I fretted for my growing unborn child and my husband noticed, thinking I was having second thoughts and tried as best he could to let me know that we were together, no matter what happened. My fears still did not go away, but I knew my child, our child would be loved and not _pitied _no matter what happened. Still, I didn't tell him about the true source of my fears… I hadn't been sick in over ten years…

Every time I think I've finally escaped its torturous clutches, it manages to once again cage on to me, one more time and much more vicious and cruel than the last. When my child was four and I was twenty-nine, my old nemesis sprout its ugly head again and everything from my relationship with my husband to my marriage took a dive…

_Hope_, according to myth, the last thing that's left for me to cling on to when my body's become nothing more than a viral vessel, filled with the rushing poisonous, claret rivers of fatal blood and left weakened by the assaults that continue to destroy my body and faith... leaving me to think that _tomorrow _may never come.

_Toxin_, the zealousness of a mother who constantly frets for the lights of her eyes, the ones she loves, her only daughter and her loving, clueless husband. _How many tears of anger and resentment have I shed over those two? Isabella, my darling, sweet Bella, my surprise miracle, and Charles, Charlie, my husband, my first love, and my daughter's father…_ _the one whom I owe my miracle to. _

In order to hold on to one, I must sacrifice the other… the choice is torturous, but in the end, I choose our daughter because, even though neither of them is to blame, _I _brought her onto my unstable world of shaking foundations and a love that I shouldn't have kindled, much less kept alive…

_Divorce_… no child so young should get caught in the middle of this heart tearing mess… By now, I'm sure the one I love, my Charlie, my husband hates me and sees how distorted I am without knowing that I'm doing this for him, that I'm saving him from myself and my world of poisonous fatalities. I know I hate myself for hurting him and our daughter… I only wish it had been out of pride, and then I wouldn't have felt so _guilt _ridden.

My Isabella is blameless, unblemished, and innocent. Everything I'm not and everything I still wish to be, everything that she shall continue to be as long as I have the strength and the breath left in me. Even so, in the process of protecting her I am the one that inflicts the most pain, the one that continues to cripple her childhood…

After the events had taken place and I was a reluctantly divorced woman, I learned that it had all been a false alarm. But, once again I had lost something dear and precious to me and I blamed it on the _leukemia _and for the first time, I was disappointed to not have the chance to war with it, because, now, it was as if I had taken so many precautions and lost something for nothing… From then on, I knew it was only a matter of _time… _for it had sent out its warning…

* * *

><p><strong>...<strong>

* * *

><p>Now, my daughter is the one turning eight, I'm still healthy, and I'll be damned if Bella doesn't have everything I didn't at her age. Isabella's fair skinned, dark brown doe eyed and haired, so like her father in demeanor, a total klutz, heart-shape face, so like my own, heartbreakingly beautiful, and has her father's brains, earnestly smart.<p>

Bella makes me so proud and it breaks my heart that I can't take care of her the way I want and the way other mothers get to care for their children. Not if I want to prepare her for a world without me. This world in which we live in is not kind and I need her to know this before I'm no longer there for her… _It won't be long now… _Even if she hates and resents me for it later, I'm preparing her the only way I can think to do so.

To everyone, even her father, and even Bella, I look like a forgetful and volatile mother who is too selfish to know how to properly cook for her daughter and maintain their home. Selfish, the only selfish thing I've ever done against my daughter is keeping her safe from the knowledge of my limited time by her side.

No, as Bella's been growing up, I've made sure she knows how to bathe, clean, cook, manage finances to some degree, and care for herself. Basically, I've made it possible for my daughter to be self-sufficient in this undependable world where I'll soon have to leave her to fend for herself. And poor Charlie, the man is still so clueless, which still makes me smile… He will have to teach her how to maintain her worth as a woman amongst wolves for men and how to sustain herself, acquire a job… I know I can trust him for that.

Even if my own daughter hates me, I must ensure that she is cared for... And the only way I can do that, is by being the villain that forces her to fight and come on top as victorious... _I'm _my daughter's _Acute Leukemia... _Some day, she will know I did it out of love. But for now, all I can do is give her the tools to her survival... _Because I love you, my sweetheart, my Bella..._

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><p><strong>...<strong>

* * *

><p>Exactly twenty-five days after Bella's eighth birthday, my old nemesis came at me from my blind spot. Just getting off work and on my way to pick up Bella from her ballet class, which she's adorably terrible at, I'd stopped by the bathroom before hitting the road when it hit me, a dizzy spell, just like it had happened when <em>I<em> had been eight. Except, it had been _much _worse than then, the floor had suddenly become the ceiling and the ceiling the floor and I was out…

Next, I awoke to the beeping of a monitor and the unwelcome florescent lights of the hospital with its sanitized stench. _I hate hospitals… _And the first person I thought of was my daughter, brown eyes spilling with tears because for the first time, I wasn't there to come get her and rescue her…

Crying, I tried calling Charlie from the hospital phone, not caring if he found out now, after all this years and only remembering why I was picking up our daughter on a day that I wasn't when his answering machine answered instead of him. He was unavailable, due to work. Still crying, I was about to call the next person I could think to call, Athenodora, but I never managed to dial the call… the doctor had come in just then, and broke in the grave news I had already guessed.

The Doctor assigned to me is a tall, broad shouldered and handsome man with brown disheveled curls that are currently styled back and brings more attention to his high brow and cheekbones, leading to a single, slight dimple on his left cheek that's slightly more visible when he smiles, flashing perfect pearly whites in greeting, and healthy russet skin.

His lab coat does nothing to conceal how well toned he maintain his body and the ring on his left hand suggest that he is married, and I can only imagine that his wife must be a very happy woman, at least with the looks department. A _Mestizo,_ endearingly handsome and with rather boyish looks but curiously, at the same time, he is all man.

"Mrs. Swan-" the Doctor has a slight but soothing twang that I don't quite recognize.

"Ms. Dwyer-" I corrected automatically, hating the sound of my voice trembling.

The Doctor's brow rose, scratched something out on his clipboard, wrote something else and then nodded to himself, correcting, "Ms. Dwyer?"

"Y-yes?" I managed to stutter out, cursing my nervousness. I already knew what he was here for, what he was going to say. And it was bad news; I could see it in his eyes.

"My name is Dr. McCarty," he informed me.

I nodded. "Dr. McCarty, a pleasure." Dr. McCarty gave me a look that said that he knew that I was lying through my teeth at the moment, but he was kind and didn't call me on it. Instead, he gave me another reassuring, one dimpled smile. I didn't smile back.

"Mrs. Dwyer," Dr. McCarty sighed heavily, "You have a history of _Leukemia_, correct?"

"Yes…" I swallow and add, "_Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia _and later Acute Myelogenous Leukemia_._"

"I see… you are a fighter, Ms. Dwyer!" He writes it down on his clipboard. He says this because only approximately 25% of people who go into remission survive past three years.

"I love life," I simply state, "I want to live it and live it for my little girl…" I choke up dangerously as images of Bella invade my mind.

"Someone to live for, that's important, you should hold on to that and continue to fight for her," Dr. McCarty whispers kindly, and giving me a moment to regroup, he looks something up in his charts. "Very wise…" When he finally looks back up at me, he asks, "Are you familiar with the terminology, "blast crisis" Ms. Dwyer?"

"I've heard the term…" I nod slowly, saying, "It's a medical emergency, though I'm not sure what characterizations are involved…"

"Good, good…" Dr. McCarty says, looking pleased with my knowledge, before further explaining, "Basically, blast crisis is characterized by a sudden increase in cancerous blood cells."

"I'm sorry, Dr. McCarty, but what does that mean?" I ask him, getting slightly impatient, "Have I regressed?"

"I'm… terribly sorry to inform you that, yes, you've regressed," Dr. McCarty lets that sink in for a moment before he delivers the punch to the universal joke on Renée Dwyer-Swan, continuing, "now _advanced Acute Myelogenous Leukemia…_"

"_Advanced…_" I choke out and I'm surprised he can even hear my voice. I'm shaking all over because I'm not ready to part from my baby girl and my baby girl… she'll have one less person to rely on in her already too small family… The tears are now streaming down my face and my body feels like it's undergoing an earthquake, that's how bad I'm trembling.

"Ms. Dwyer, you need to breathe," Dr. McCarty urges me, now at my side and making sure that my airway is free.

Still, I can't breathe. "There's no _hope_…" I hush out, breathless and I cling onto the young doctor for support, burying my face in his chest as my body rakes with wrecking sobs.

"It'll be all right, Renée," Dr. McCarty promises, his own voice catching, "You came to us not a moment too soon. That gives us a chance to treat you immediately…"

"It's twenty-five percent, Dr. McCarty." I cry, practically accusingly and hold on tighter, "The most that gives me is _three _years, _IF _I survive…"

"Call me Jayden," Jayden McCarty interrupts. "Renée, you're supposed to be a fighter," Jaden reminds me stubbornly, "fighters fight and hope for miracles…"

At last, _Hope _is gone… and has abandoned me to the dark abyss that has tattooed the pain and suffering of my plague over my heart, soul, and body. There's nothing more to do but wait for the shadow of Death to appear at the foot of my bed to take me away from my affliction… just when this thought takes hold of me I see _their doe_ eyes, brown, big, and loving, asking and pleading for me to come back home, where they know nothing of my ailment.

"There's no more miracles left for me…" I shake my head vehemently and I think Jayden is crying alongside me but I can't bring myself to look up at him. "What about my Bella?" I demand, "What about Ch-Charlie?" And then I'm crying so much that I can't say anything else.

"You are a fighter," Jayden reminds me again, "fight for your daughter, fight for Bella, fight and see her…"

These words are like an unguent that eases everything into perspective and suddenly, I'm no longer crying and the young man that had reminded me just who Renée Dwyer is is looking down at me with something akin to mischievousness. I ask the first thing that comes out of my mouth;

"Are you sure you're even a real doctor?" As the question leave my lips, I clap a hand over my no-filter mouth, totally humiliated and fearing that I've just insulted the kind Jayden McCarty who took on my tears with ease, like a man should. But when I look sideways at Dr. McCarty, he's shaking with laughter and _not_ anger. I frown in confusion.

"My wife accuses me of that every time I get sick and beg her to pamper me," he explains between a bark of a laugh. I smile bashfully at him and apologize but he dismisses it. "No worries, Alice has made me open my eyes to the sad fact that rather than a doctor, I look more like a male stripper," Alarmed, I glance at Dr. McCarty to find him smirking casually and shake my head as he finishes, "though, clearly, I'm not! I have a son you know? Have to set the example…"

"I get it…" Now I'm giggling as he continues to grumble bashfully.

"I can't believe I just said that to a patient!" Jayden groans, "This isn't good, not at all. Can't believe my devious wife has actually turned my mouth into a no-filter honesty skewer…" He traces a hand across his face dramatically, adding, "So bad for the job...!"

"Your wife sounds like a smart woman," I venture.

Jayden nods, a small flush coloring his bashful features as he says, "She is, and wonderful mother too… and aunt." He has such an endearing smile on his face that there's no doubting that he loves his wife, Alice. And it reminds me painfully of the way Charlie and I used to be… "Well, I have other patients to attend to, Fighting Dwyer," Jayden tells me with a wink and disappears.

_Fighting Dwyer, catchy_, I think and dry my tears, smiling, _I like it._ Getting lost in my own musings, I wonder if my Bella is all right and if she's safe. So lost am I in my musings that I'm practically startled out of my mind as I see a shadow by the door out of my peripheral and freeze, listening.

"Come in, Peter," I suddenly hear a_ very _familiar voice order with an impatient hiss and my head snaps to the door to see-

"Athenodora, is that you?" I don't even care that my voice sounds too weak; I'm too excited at the prospect of reuniting with an old friend, who I haven't seen in a year. If it _really _is Athenodora, she hasn't changed. Only, she's probably gotten much bossier than I used to remember.

"The one and only!" My old time friend answers and confirms, face brightening and lighting up with a sincere smile.

"Athena!" I weakly squeal, gleeful and urge her to come closer to me. Immediately, she walks further into the room and closer to my bed.

"I haven't been called that in a while!" Athena exclaims, seemingly pleased. This is Athena all right, I think, she, like my daughter, _hates _being called by her first name. "It's so good to see you!" Athena adds, "You look healthy as ever too." She winks at me and I can't help but chuckle, her blatant sarcasm not lost on me. This is why I love having Athena in my life, she treats me like a person even when I'm down and others would turn to pity.

"You know me, the picture of health," I sigh airily, remembering our younger years and all the times she held my hair away from my face so that I could throw up, despite my embarrass protests. During those times, I learned that it is true what they say; a friend _is_ more than a sibling… Smiling with recollection, in all honesty, I tell her, "You are a sight for sore eyes, Athena…"

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><p>…<p>

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><p><em><strong>AN: **So this is _Renée_'s view of things and the latest chapter! What's the verdict?__ I hope you all loved taking a look inside Renée's head… Let me know how much or how little you did with a REVIEW and I shall send out __teasers for the next chapter__ to those who do. _

_I think next chapter we can go visit Rose's head for a bit and then go back to dear Jasper, or Bella, haven't decided yet!_

_Thank you for reading!_


	14. Following Morning  A Parent

_**A/N:**__ Because the last chapter was so short and I had already started on this chapter and because you all have been so faithful with your reviews, I decided to update much earlier than normal. Thanks for the inspiration, my dear readers!_

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><p><em><strong>...<strong>  
><em>

_**...**_

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><p><em><strong>Once Upon a Time;<strong>_

_**Renée's PoV **_

_ "There's no more miracles left for me…" I shake my head vehemently and I think Jayden is crying alongside me but I can't bring myself to look up at him. "What about my Bella?" I demand, "What about Ch-Charlie?" And then I'm crying so much that I can't say anything else._

_ "You are a fighter," Jayden reminds me again, "fight for your daughter, fight for Bella, fight and see her…"_

_ These words are like an unguent that eases everything into perspective and suddenly, I'm no longer crying and the young man that had reminded me just who Renée Dwyer is is looking down at me with something akin to mischievousness._

_ "Well, I have other patients to attend to, Fighting Dwyer," Jayden tells me with a wink and disappears._

Fighting Dwyer_, catchy, I think and dry my tears, smiling, _I like it.

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><p><strong>…<strong>

**…**

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><p><strong>Scouting for Prince Charming<strong>

** Tale XIII:**

_**Following **__**Morning - A Parent's Love **_

**Jasper's PoV**

When I woke next, it was to the aroma of, by the smell of it, a wonderful breakfast being prepared down in the kitchen and no Bella in my bed. Heart pounding for some inexplicable reason, I chanced a quick glance at the clock, which told me that I had shut-eye for another forty-five minutes since the last time I'd woken up at the ungodly hour of five forty-five in the morning.

It is now six thirty-two in the morning and there is, still, an angry red light pulsing from my printer, letting me know that I have yet to retrieve the awaiting clothes itinerary for today, courtesy of Aunt Alice. With a slight shake of my shaggy bed head hair and a dejected sigh, I pull back the covers and got out of bed, ready or not, I _have _to get ready to face the school day ahead, bleak as it might be. James' and his impending fists of doom are in my horizon, after all…

Momentarily torn between my insistent, grumbling tummy, worrying over Bella's whereabouts, and a dire need to pee, I take a moment to sort out through my indecision without so much as moving a muscle before my need of a bathroom break wins out. Heading toward the bathroom, I pick up my itinerary from the printer on my way, making the annoyingly pulsing red light stop, finally, and smile as I see my outfit of the day. Aunt Alice had outdone herself once again.

Today she's providing me with a choice of steam-punk-geek attire and I have to admit I'm quite digging the choice, looking forward to seeing how it looks on me. Quickly entering the bathroom, I took care of business and did my regular morning routine of washing my face with clinic for men, none of that girly stuff, thank-you-very-much, a five minute shower, brushing teeth, a quick shave to get rid of the three facial hair on my chin, and styling the faux-hawk into a messy perfection that always takes longer than five minutes… it's always worth it, though.

Smiling at my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I find that I am quite satisfied with the results and gleefully decide to go get ready for school and dressed in what my Aunt has picked out with me in mind. Padding down the hallway to my room in nothing but my towel, I make sure to stay alert, my eyes scanning the perimeter, and hope that I don't run into my mother in my current state of undress, or, heaven forbid, Bella Swan.

With no casualties, a moment later I'm safely entering my room and trying to regroup my scattered thoughts and worries about a certain missing eight-year old, I set about fixing my bed, else my momma will chew me out and kick my behind into next week, and making sure to remember to drop my dirty clothes _inside _the hamper, I undress after having acquired all the essential pieces of clothing.

Fifteen minutes later of frowning at questionable things and grunting, I'm staring appreciatively at my reflection in the mirror, which is conveniently hanging behind my bedroom door, through thick, black NERD-Geek squared frame glasses with clear lens that are just for show and bring out their turquoise hue in striking contrast.

Smirking and somewhat managing to scowl at the same time, I manage to resign myself to my fate today… all the drooling girls and _males_, the appreciative whispers, and the unabashed ogling that is sure to come my way today, thanks to how I look. Sighing, I can't help but feel like a martyr and chuckle at the morbid thought and audacity of it all.

_I better not get kidnapped today; I have enough on my plate as it is…_

Slightly amazed, despite it all, I blink as I take in the full effect of my outfitted reflection, gawking as my eyes roam and perform a quick full-body scan from my faux-hawk to my feet, clad in light-gray high top sneaker with white soles and deep violet lacing that come from the back of the ankle, where there's a zipper heading from the ankle to the heel, and pulls around, tying at the top of the tongue.

One of my favorite sneakers, from the _Ali-By _brand, which I can practically wear all day and still feel my feet by the end of it. Nothing atypical there, I'm used to being surprised that I'm surprised at being surprised by my Aunt's amazing skills, keen sense of style, and even keener eyes.

Not that I'm self-absorbed or anything but, well, I look… well, surprisingly _good, _smart, and _handsome,_ even, if I do say so myself. Not that I have ever doubted Alice in her choice of outfits before, but still… this is a showing off of her skills that really has me more in awe of my Aunt than ever and takes her amazing skills to a whole new level.

Because practically every single piece of clothing I have on right now, except my underwear, is from her high-end brand, _G3erd _by _Ali-By_. Even the chain I'm wearing is from her brand _Faction_ by _Ali-By, _which showcased all kinds of men and women jewelry that always ends up having some kind of angel wings embedded in their design.

Therefore, not only is Alice an _excellent FX _artist, she is also a brand name designer. In all accounts, she is _amazing_! Smiling, I recall being five and being buried in Aunt Alice's latest fashion conquests, along with Emmett, as she tried to create her portfolio, while taking care of us and designing nightmarish monsters so that she could do the proposal for her own brand, _Ali-By_.

Loads of sleepless nights, sweat, tears, pricked fingers, blood, tons of caffeine, and coffee induced panic attacks later, and she somehow managed to pull it off singlehandedly with the support of her family, Jayden, Emmett, my momma, and I, her personal support group. Now, everyone has heard of her brand, her name, and admire her work in movies and photos alike, especially those interested in body paint. Incidentally, every weekend she goes to this body art club, further into the city, where everyone who works there wears nothing but the paint Aunt Alice uses to "dress" them in.

The brand name _Ali-By,_ a name composed of her nickname, the first letter of her maiden name, and the last letter of her husband's, Uncle Jayden's, last name. Something that my own momma had accidentally come up with one day, being tired of calling Aunt Alice by her full name every time her experimental clothing found their explosive way into our room at the time.

For example, mine is dragon scale style, 6mm thickness, 30 inches in length, and 92.5% sterling silver, Bali chain with black oxidized finish to accentuate the details on the chain, which ends in two delicate separate angel wings that clasp together, one over the other, like a hook. And right under it I have my nametag chain, which Uncle Jayden gave to me when I turned thirteen and ever since, became my most prized possession.

Currently I'm sporting _G3erd _by _Ali-By, _to start naming one. Consisting of a slim fit, swallowtail steam-punk, color-block blazer jacket, Korean style, with a hoodie in lapis colored velvet torso and back with a dotted texture, and charcoal wool sleeves and collar with a bold lapis lining, and asymmetrical, vintage silver, French metal, one-inch buttons with black painted backs, and a design of spirals, which forms something like a shield, with etched "_A_"s in the middle.

On the inside of the blazer I'm wearing _NФmэ Sakё by Ali-By, _a simple tee-shirt that's pale gray with silver letters that spell my name across the length of my right side. And then, to complete the look, I have on my straight fitting, nudie skinny jeans in washed out gray with deliberate rips here and there, hanging dangerously low on my hips with a light gray military style belt and exposing the elastic waistband of my AX boxer briefs, legs going straight into and giving way to the light gray high tops.

"Jasper!" My momma's voice startles me out of my trance and I glance down at my gunmetal _Diesel, DZ 7247, _watch and realize that it is seven-o-five in the A.M. "Breakfast is ready, darlin'!" momma tells me and I grin at my reflection with apparent hunger in my eyes. "Come and get some!"

"Commin'!" I shout back.

And quickly begin moving around my room in a flurry as I exchange all the contents of my backpack into another one, a gray one, so that it goes with the theme of my look. Yup, Aunt Alice had threatened me to do so in a rather extensive post note that warned that she _would _find out, one way or another if I did or didn't and _would_ make me pay if I _didn't_. Not wanting to suffer her wrath, I decide on obeying the _Prada _wearing _She-Devil, _just in case.

Cell phone in hand, school books and notebooks securely inside the exchanged backpack, I hurdle my way down the stairs and into the dining room unnoticed as I pocket my cell phone in my back pocket. Instantly, I see my momma seated at the dining table, watching Bella work her way around our kitchen just like last night. Suddenly, my heart feels as light as it should for so early in the morning at the sight of Bella, and her obvious state of wellness, cooking once again in our kitchen.

Only, this morning, she's the one responsible for the amazing smell of warm breakfast that woke me up in the first place. And as if on cue, my stomach grumbles, asking me to stop being a brute and feed it! _Soon, soon… _I promise, nursing the nudging pain of hunger away and walking closer to where my momma is seated to take a seat myself.

My eyes are still set on Bella as I unceremoniously drop my backpack on the empty chair next to the one I plan to sit myself for breakfast and I notice that she's still wearing the same clothes she wore to bed last night, but her hair seems to have been hastily brushed, giving her a rather carefree look, and she looks, otherwise, ready for the school day ahead.

With a bit of a startled realization, I note that what she's wearing can be considered as dance clothes. _Now that explains a lot, considering that she wasn't planning on having a sleepover anywhere yesterday,_ I muse. _She's been using what she always has on her dance class duffle bag. _Just as I'm critically investigating for any signs of anything out of the ordinary, Bella turns, catches my scrutinizing gaze, and freezes while I fight a blush of embarrassment for being caught staring.

"Jasper!" Bella greets beamingly. Though I instantly relax with her swift dismissal of my red-handed discomfort, my heart strangely skips a beat and then goes back to normal. "Good morning…" She flushes as she takes a real good look at me and I think I hear her mumble something along the lines of, _just like _Prince Charming_… _I fidget uncomfortably and smile tightly as she blinks quickly. I sigh.

"Morning," I greet, grinning slightly and try not to stare at her flushed cheeks too long, or to further fidget and pull at my blazer under her gaze as she looks me up and down, from faux-haw to light gray high tops. Suddenly, I'm not feeling as self-assured about how good I thought I looked moments ago… Finally, Bella releases my gaze and turns back to what she was doing in the kitchen before I came in and interrupted, still blushing furiously, and in a breathless rush, I can breathe again.

_I hadn't even realized I'd been holding my breath!_

Just then, as I'm still frozen by the end of the dining table, my hips halfway shifting onto a chair, I notice that my momma's been staring at me this entire time. When I feel ready and my eyes meet hers sheepishly, she quirks a brow and smirks with a knowing look in her gradient eyes. Heart thundering for some reason I don't get, I try to bite back a groan and momentarily panic as I realize that she probably saw... last night… _Oh God…_

"Alice?" Though posed as a question it is obvious that she means it as a statement, not even a guess. My entire demeanor relaxes when she doesn't tease me about last night and I hold hope that maybe, just maybe she actually didn't see Bella sleeping in my bed… last night…

I nod and instead of answering, greet, "Mornin' momma." Standing up again, I go over to my momma's side of the table as she reciprocates the greeting and kiss the top of her crazy blonde curls before smiling at her winningly. Distracted by the sight of toast, I grab a couple and diligently gulf down the two at the same time in practically three bites on the spot. _Emmett would be so proud of me… _I think, smirking around the mouthful.

"Slept well?" momma asks, eying me knowingly and fussing over my blazer, swatting away at imaginary dust on my shoulders and a few wayward crumbs on my chest before bringing me down to her level and patting my left cheek and kissing the right one. I'm slightly frozen from the waist down.

Making sure to grab another piece of toast, I make a quick dash to my seat and drumming my fingers along the edge of the rectangular mahogany table, wait to finally taste the mouthwatering aroma rather impatiently.

And as my beat picks up to the rhythm of Emmett's and my food anthem, I mentally sing along to it;

_Food, glorious food! _

_We're anxious to try it! _

_Three banquets a day, our favorite diet! _

_Oh, Food! Wonderful, food! _

_Marvelous, Food! Glorious Food! _

_Food… Glorious food!_

_Oh food, magical food…_

_Just thinking of juicy meat…_

_Puts us in a mood…_

_For food, glorious food!_

_Marvellous food!_

_Fabulous food!_

_Beautiful food!_

_Magical food!_

_Glorious food!_

_..._

Eventually, my momma's voice interrupts my internal orchestra in honor of the food to come… therefore, I force myself to pay attention and not be such a teenage boy that only keeps his brain wrapped around thoughts of food… _Magical, glorious, beautiful food! _

_ Distracted? Who, me? Please… I'm listening, promise… What was that about food? We weren't talking about food at all, you say? Oops…_

"Geek day today?" my momma repeats patiently as I glance her way and stare, dumbly blinking at her, through the growing-teenager-stupidity-inducing aroma, trying to make sense of her jumbled words in my scrambled eggs -head, I mean.

_It smells so good! I need to have that smell! _I think and my stomach instantly agrees. Momma chuckles as if she knows what's going on in my brain, and mind you, she probably knows, she knows me too well for my taste sometimes.

"Steam-Punk-Geek," I correct with mock smugness, finally back on track and add, "I _think_."

"Ah… of course, I stand corrected." She rolls her eyes, smirks, and says, "No matter, same difference," her smile widens as she compliments, "It looks good on you. As I'm sure your Aunt already foresaw."

I nod, _that she probably did. _"Thank you," I say, feeling rather smug and bashful all of a sudden and glance quickly at Bella. She's fishing out juice from the fridge and then she goes in search of glasses, moving her stool along as she goes, owning the kitchen. I smile at the sight. _Good, she didn't hear that…momma can be so embarrassing sometimes._

"_Too _good, if you ask me," she mumbles and my eyes zero in on her expression and I brace myself. _Something's coming…_ "Just make sure to come back to your momma in one piece today, okay?" _Ah! There it is! _I gulp and she titters at the obvious sight of my unease. "I'll promise to still let you through the door with minor bruises and cuts," I groan, "battle scars, if you will?"

"Can't you be more, I don't know, _sympathetic_?" I whine and groan as my momma shakes her blonde curls in amusement. Glancing as furtively as possible at Bella under my momma's watchful eyes, I'm relieved to see that she's still busy pilling up scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages, and pancakes onto three different plates.

Thankfully, I observe, they all seem to hold varying amounts of food on each. Meaning that the one that holds the most food will be chucked down by me in due time, I'll make sure of it. Just the thought makes me salivate... _Excuse me while I wipe the corners of my mouth with a towel…_

"You, my son, are too handsome for your own good…" My momma tells me with a dramatic sigh and purses her lips, effectively distracting me from eating with my eyes, and looking me up and down critically. "It's that faux-hawk and the glasses, you know," momma continues, "they suggest far too much…"

"Momma!" I gape at my momma and my cheeks instantly flare up with a blush of obvious embarrassment in response. That definitely makes Bella look our way, a curious and humorous gleam shining in her dark doe eyes. A look that makes me think that she's probably been listening all along, I manage not to groan and try to say more of a comeback while ignoring just how nervous Bella's attention on me makes me. "Yo-you-you," I stutter and fidget, accusing, "you are supposed to be my momma!"

"That doesn't mean I can't tease you to my heart's desire," she curtly informs me as she stands to help a struggling Bella to bring the plates to the table. "What's a mother to do if she can't tease her own son?" She smirks and asks Bella, "Right Bella?"

Bella blushes, glances in my direction as I face palm myself, and nods in answer while biting her bottom lip. Soon after, she's shuffling all around the kitchen gathering knives, forks, and plates. I frown, thinking, _I hope she knows she can't possibly carry it all… _I make to stand and help but then remember a little detail about last night and jump on it.

"Hey, you didn't let me know you were on your way home last night," I accuse, trying to deviate the subject away from further Jasper-inducing-embarrassment and hungrily eye the steaming plate of goods set before me.

"Thank you Bella," my mother says, smiling gratefully at the blushing girl as she receives her own plate of steaming goods. Still, there aren't any utensils and I frown at this. S_eems like she does know she can't carry it all. _

"You were supposed to text or call before leaving work," I continue, trying to distract myself from the food before I decide to go all cavemen on our guest and eat with my hands and fingers, "You promised, remember?" Bella brings along her own plate along with another, which is stacked with more pancakes. Still, no utensils, I observe and pout.

"I did text," my momma informs me calmly, thankfully distracting me again. "It was around eleven thirty already and you never replied, so I decided to just go along with it and come straight home. You were probably more tired than you thought…"

Fishing my phone out of my back pocket, I confirm that she did, indeed, text me at 11:25 P.M. last night, saying; _ON MY WAY SON, LOVE MOM_. Flushing lightly I realize that I must have been really out of it and in dream land last night to not have heard my phone chime or vibrate with the incoming text.

"Sorry," I mumble. "I was already asleep by that time…" I trail off, scratching the nape of my neck and add, "Guess I was really tired, huh?"

"So I saw when I checked up on you before turning myself in." I'm barely breathing when my momma says this and certainly not daring to move a muscle. "I didn't have the heart to wake you when I saw how peacefully you were sleeping," she says gently and I relax, glad that she didn't bring Bella up. "I'm glad I didn't and you got a good night's sleep for a change."

"Yeah…" I chuckle uneasily, "me too." _I did sleep uncharacteristically good last night… strange. _Usually, I can't sleep at all on a regular basis and that takes a new meaning when strangers are involved, then I really can't sleep and go all insomniac for days and sometimes weeks. And if for some reason they need to sleep in the same room as me, I get really uncomfortable, not to mention _same _bed, like Bella did last night. _Why was last night any different, _I muse, glancing at Bella with a slight frown.

"Now, go be a gentleman and help our _guest _bring the breakfast she cooked over," momma instructs and I do as I'm told eagerly.

"I-I can do it myself…" Bella feebly stutters in protest.

I smile and gently say, "I know you can Bella, but I want to help." And with that, I grab the three juices and some napkins expertly and take them to the table.

Meanwhile, Bella followed behind me with the utensils. When we reached the table and handed over the juices and utensils, we finally sat down to eat and I scuffed down everything on my plate in record time. I could have given Emmett a run for his money, even.

"Thank you for cooking Bella. Though, you really didn't have to. But it sure was delicious…"

"Yeah!" I agree with my mother, pilling some more pancakes onto my plate. "You're like a little chef genius!" I compliment, already digging so I'm not quite sure if she understood that last bit…

"You are welcome!" Bella is blushing as she says this but she seems pleased.

"Slow down Jasper!" my momma admonishes as she chuckles. "You're gonna give Bella the impression that I don't feed you…" I shrug, still not slowing down, as if my life depends on it.

"Don't worry," Bella says darkly, a smirk that I'd never seen before appearing on her face as she conspiratorially informs my momma, "After watching how he eats yesterday, I don't think anything else will surprise me again…"

I practically choke on my pancakes at this and I'm eternally grateful to Bella as she dutifully hands me the orange juice to chase the dying dog cough away. My momma's laughing so hard that her face has a slight flush and she's holding her belly.

I scowl at her before turning my attention to Bella and in a croak tell her, "Thank you…" And point to the glass of half downed orange juice.

"No problem!" she chirps, smiling with mischief. _Yup, she's growing on me… but if Emmett gets to her, she'll probably be corrupted,_ I think and I'm already dreading the very idea.

"Well kids!," my momma announces. "It is," she glances at her watch, "seven thirty-five. Which means we gotta get a move on so those plates will have to be done later…"

My nerves ending frying with dreading anticipation, Bella, my momma, and I are all seated and secured by seatbelts in our respective car seats and fifteen minutes into the ride to _my _school first. Basically, my mom doesn't even know it, but she's leading me by the hand like a lamb to the slaughter, school and purgatory have taken on a whole new meaning by my books now.

_God, let me make it through today…_

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

**…**

* * *

><p><strong>Rosalie's PoV<strong>

"Be careful on your way home Rose," Eleazar bids as I make my way to my car and bid everyone I meet on the way good night.

"Thanks Eli!" I shout back and rummage for my phone in my purse. "I will," I promise. "I don't want Jasper to get mad at me if I don't," I add and he laughs at our inside joke, knowing that it would be very likely for Jasper to get on my case about not being cautious at night and what not. Sometimes he's like an old grandfather, which gets me thinking about Grandfather Whitlock… In turn, that makes me think about before Jasper was born…

Getting into my car, I type Jasper a quick text to let him know that I'm on my way and wait five minutes for him to respond. When he doesn't, I frown, feeling slightly worried. _I hope everything is okay at home, _I pray and stealthily put the gears on reverse. Though I know that Jasper is usually very responsible and he would call me if something were to go wrong, I can't help but feel uneasy as I speed down the road on the way home.

Jasper almost always answers my text and calls within the span of five minutes, even when he misses one. Therefore, one can understand my apprehension when something out of the ordinary happens. Just as he is over protective with me, I'm twice as over protective with him, my one and only son. Smiling, I can't help but think, like I so often do, that despite the hard times Jasper and I have seen, I don't regret an hour or a moment of it.

Making it home in the record time of thirty-two minutes, it usually takes me forty-five, I'm glad that there were no cops to stop me tonight because they probably would have had to arrest me, since I would have gone all mamma bear on whomever for trying to get in the way of getting home to my son and see if he's safe and sound. I don't care if he's fourteen, twenty, or fifty some day, in my eyes he's still the same rosy baby I held for the first time in that hospital bed, when I was still planning to give him away…

Breathing a sigh of relieve, I kill the ignition. Noticing that our home seems perfectly serene with just the front door and the living room's light on, which Jasper always leaves on for me to easily find my way around during long nights like this, so thoughtful, my son, I know that everything will be all right. However, this gives me pause again, it all seems _too _serene. _Surely, Jasper couldn't be asleep yet… not with Bella, practically a stranger, in the house, and just a room over from his?_

With a deep frown, I grab my purse, house keys in hand, exit the car and lock it, and make my way to my front door. Once inside, I look to see that there's no sight of either Jasper nor Bella as I turn off the light outside and that of the living room and bound up the stairs toward his room in the hopes to appease my distress and finally get a much needed rest.

Clicking the dim hallway light that leads to my room on the right and Jasper and the guest room's room to the right, I make a right. Jasper's door is slightly ajar but there are no lights on within his room, I take in, but I can hear even, quiet breathing that suggests that he is surprisingly asleep.

_Maybe having Bella around wore him out, _I muse, chuckling inwardly as I make my way down the hall to the guest room and check up on Bella. But, when I push open the slightly ajar door I frown, Bella is nowhere in sight and the bed is still made… Walking the short distance across the hallway and to the closed bathroom door, I try the knob and it instantly gives. No one there either. _It can't be…_

Quietly retracing my steps, I lightly push Jaspers door open and when the hallway's dim light floods into his room, my breath catches… Bella is sleeping in Jasper's room and in his bed but that isn't what surprises me, it's the fact that Jasper too is asleep next to Bella, who is virtually stranger to him, and delicately holding her in his sleep as she holds him in her sleep.

For a long moment, I stand there watching them, not knowing how to react or what to do. I've never seen my son look so _peaceful _in his sleep before. I haven't seen him fall asleep this early in a while, period. And I'm sure Bella has everything to do with it. Instantly, I'm so thankful to this little girl that my eyes are watering up with tears and I feel like letting them fall but don't.

Instead, I make to close the door but leave it slightly ajar as I make my way to my room, my heart swelling with joy and foreign hope. _What exactly am I hoping for? _I wonder. _That Alice is right about Bella? _I honestly don't know, but I'm sure of one thing. What I saw tonight, will be something that I'll keep to myself so that I won't jinx it…

Taking my clothes off along the way, I finally enter my room and deposit the dirty clothes in the hamper, which I keep conveniently by the bathroom and decide on a quick shower so that I can relax my overworked muscles before passing out.

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

* * *

><p>It is six o-five in the morning and I groan awake I hear little feet padding along the hallway and into the bathroom. Realizing that it is only Bella, I try to sleep some more before I have to take her and Jasper to school… <em>I really need more sleep…<em>

Next, I'm jolted awake from the sudden fear of having overslept, only to see that it is six twenty-two in the morning. Sighing with relief, I get up and quickly go to the bathroom to brush my teeth before going downstairs to grab a LARGE cup of coffee, knowing that I'll need it if I want to survive today.

Once I make it to the kitchen, I'm happily surprised to find that my coffee's been made and waiting for me on top of the dining table. Soon, I'm frowning, _that's strange…_

"Morning," Bella greets me and I suddenly know who prepared my coffee. "I hope you don't mind, but I made you coffee… my mommy usually likes it with milk so I made yours like that too…" I smile at her ramblings, shaking my head in dismissal. _This girl is a keeper, that's for sure._

"Mornin'" I reciprocate groggily and stifle a yawn behind my hand, sitting down and taking a sip of my coffee. "This is really good Bella," I tell her honestly, humming, surprised that it tastes better than the one's I make with the same coffee maker, milk, and sugar. _What's her secret? _

"It's nothing…"

"Honestly, I'm going to have to find you from now on just so you can do my coffee," I announce and she blushes adorably. "I hope your mother won't mind my stealing you…" She giggles and I smile at her. _So cute!_

"Jasper and you said almost the same thing," she informs me, giggling some more as she digs around my fridge. _Is she planning to cook? _I wonder worriedly. "I cooked last night," she explains, taking me by surprise, "and he liked it." She seems very pleased by this and I can't help but find her innocence endearing as I inspect my kitchen and see that it is still as spotless as I'd left it yesterday.

"Where's Jasper anyway?" I ask her, yawning again.

"I think he's still sleeping," Bella tells me and cracks open a couple eggs on a glass bowl.

"Then what are you doing up so early?"

"Making you guys breakfast?" she says, stating the obvious.

I hum, "You don't have to, you know?"

"I want to." She pauses. "Thanks for not asking me if I _know _how to cook…" She blushes and I smile, teeth surely showing.

"Well, you looked like you knew what you were doing before I came down here," I tell her shrugging. "Do you like to cook?"

"Yeah, it's fun!" Now she's the one smiling and I along with her. "Besides, I cook for my mom and me all the time… she can't cook…" I frown at this, there's something really worrisome about that woman. "Just like Jasper, but she's worse," Bella adds and I snort a laugh.

"You are right," I agree, "Jasper can't cook to keep himself alive!"

Bella giggles. "He wanted to poison me with his burnt grilled cheese," she covertly informs me, "that's why I offered to cook."

"Thank God, you probably saved me from coming home to a burnt house!"

And after that, we giggled some and talked more as she prepared breakfast and I enjoyed her company, until I decided to go get out of my pajamas and dressed. By that time, I was sure that Jasper was up and getting ready himself with the help of our dear Alice. She didn't dress me because I refuse quite vehemently to let her, much to her chagrin.

"I'll be back shortly…"

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

**...**

* * *

><p><strong>Peter's PoV<strong>

Today, despite not being able to find Bella yesterday, I'm excited! For the first time since first grade I get to attend school and there- I frown as my cell phone's vibration on my pocket deters my train of thoughts.

"James?" I greet once I've dug my phone out of my pocket and see his name flashing on my display as I hit the greed answering button. I'm very surprised, as anyone can imagine.

"Morning cousin!" He greets, sounding… well, too chirpy for, well, _James_. "The one and only…"

I almost gag at his use of the words my mother so often uses. "I didn't know you were a rise and shine kinda guy, cuz," I tease, smirking.

"Smart ass," He mumbles, but I can tell he's grinning, still in a good mood. "Oops, I meant smarty pants. I always forget you're a little booger." I frown further.

"So, why are you calling me at," I glance at my cell phone, "seven in the morning?" _What on earth is going on? Is the world coming to an end or did Hell freeze over?_

"What, your cousin can't call you now?"

"_James_…" James doesn't make house calls without a motive.

"Alright, alright… why is it that both you and Charlotte can be so bossy?" he huffs and I relax a little and that goes all away when his next words register in my brain. "Um… look, I'm calling -crap- look, have you -did you?"

"Spit it out James!" I plead, getting impatient and, if I'm honest with myself, very curious.

"Peter, sweetheart?" my mom calls from the door, a brow raised in question.

"Hold on," I tell James, cutting him off again and put a hand over the receiver.

"Yes, mom?"

"Come have breakfast?" she offers, "We need to be on our way soon so it would be better if you wrap that up."

I nod. "It's just James, I'm sure he'll be quick," I inform mom and though she raises a brow she nods and goes on her way without asking much. "You were saying James?"

"Bella," he finally breathes. And I frown, my heart hammering against my chest disjointedly.

"Bella?" I repeat slowly.

"You know, _Bella_, you where at her birthday last month?" he elaborates.

_Just as I feared. _"What about her?" I ask carefully, trying not to panic.

"Well, have you seen her or talked to her recently?" he asks me impatiently. "Lottie's been worried about her and asking me all kinds of questions because apparently her mom didn't pick her up from class yesterday or something…" When James rambles that means that there's a lie somewhere in what he is saying, and given that everything he's said so far is true, I'm assuming the lie is that Lottie's been the only one worried about Bella. "And I remembered that you know her too and decided to call you…?"

"No, I haven't," I tell him. He sighs. "I was looking for her yesterday, though…"

"And?" he asks impatiently.

_Sheesh! _"Apparently she went to stay at the home of someone named Rosalie Hale," though her name sounded familiar, I couldn't place why, "from what this bookshop lady told us."

"Rosalie Hale?" he asks and then adds, "Jasper Whitlock's mom?"

"Hey, isn't that that guy that was also at her birthday?" I question excitedly, understanding, "The one dressed as Prince Charming?"

"He's the one," James grits out and I'm so glad we are over the phone; his face gets scary when he's like this. "He goes to my school… I wasn't sure but-"

"But what?" I ask exasperated.

"I did see her yesterday, at my school…"

"Are you at school yet?" I ask him, a plan formulating in my head.

"No, I'm on my way out, why?" I can just see him frowning and smile. "Talking of which… Charlotte, hurry and get down here! We gotta go if we don't want to be late!" I hear him bellow to my other cousin and it is so loud that I momentarily feel deaf as I take the phone away from my ear.

"You think you can drop by our house and give me a ride to school?"

"Did you forget you're home schooled, little punk?" James quirks, sounding quite affectionate. _If he were like this _all_ the time it would make things so _much_ easier,_ I can't help but think, _and calling him my cousin wouldn't shame me at times..._

"Not anymore," I announce smugly, "as of today, I'm a _St. Cullen's_ student, just like you and Lottie."

"Well, look at you…" he chuckles, "Hope you don't get too disappointed. I'll have your back so you don't have to worry about being so puny."

"Are you actually acting like an affectionet cousing right now?" I gape. He chuckles. I smirk. "I'm sure I wont," I assure him, "and by the way, thanks man, I'll take you up on that."

"Man, Lottie's gonna be so hyped when she hears," James chuckles. "Hear what?" I hear Charlotte's voice inquiring bossily. "That Peter's coming to school with us from now on," he tells her. "OH MY GOD!" she squeals and I have to cover my ears. "Shi- Charlotte calm down, it's too early for this shi- crap!" James yells at my cousin and I can't help but chuckle. "You better be telling me the truth you dunce!" Charlotte warns. "Yeah, yeah… you see?" Now the conversation is back to me.

"So can you give me a ride?" I repeat.

"Sure, we'll go pick you up then," he agrees. I sigh. "But you sure Aunt Athenodora will be okay with you riding with me?"

Exiting my room in search of my mother and a quick breakfast, I answer, "She will be."

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

**…**

* * *

><p><em><strong> AN: **__This chapter was longer than the last and getting back on the normal loop of things, even though I don't feel I moved anything along. Please bare with me, I promise that the next chapter things will pick up again, since we'll be seeing what happens at school to poor Jasper at the mercy of James' probable wrath. Please remember, Reviews are rewarded with previews for the upcoming chapter._


	15. Survival Mode, Activated –Part I

**_"A/N:_**_ My apologies for the excessively long wait. _

* * *

><p><strong><em>...<em>**

**_..._**

* * *

><p><strong><em>Once Upon a Time;<em>**

**_Peter's PoV _**

_"Hear what?" I hear Charlotte's voice inquire bossily. _

_"That Peter's coming to school with us from now on," he tells her in as bored a monotone as possible. Something like a clatter and a crash messes with the phone line, causing static before–_

_"OH MY GOOOOSH!" she squeals without warning. Belatedly, I distance the phone from my ruptured eardrum and try to stop the ringing in my ears with my pinky. _

_"Shi- Charlotte, calm down! It's too early for this shi- crap!" James yells at my cousin and I can't help but chuckle darkly. _

_"You better be telling me the truth you dunce!" Charlotte warns. _

_"Yeah, yeah… I'll tell you after you go to sleep," James tells her. Somehow, that works. "You see, what did I tell you?" Now the conversation is back to me._

_"So, does this mean you can give me a ride?" I repeat._

_"Sure, we'll go pick you up then," he agrees. I sigh. "But, dude, you sure Aunt Athenodora will be okay with me driving you to school?"_

_Exiting my room in search of my mother and a quick breakfast, I answer, "She will be by the time you get here."_

* * *

><p><strong>…<strong>

**…**

* * *

><p><strong>Scouting for Prince Charming<strong>

**Tale XIV:**

**_Survival Mode, Activated –Part I_**

**Peter's PoV**

Turns out, I was _very _wrong about Mom being okay with James driving me to my first day of regular kids school. Apparently, she had this grand idea of dropping me off and having that whole experience normal parents have when they take their five year-old kids for the first time to kindergarten and their kids cry, they cry (because that's not embarrassing), take pictures of their kids cute outfits and their snot, and just feed on their kids abandonment issues, all because she didn't get to do that with me enough then. _The HORROR!_

Of course, just my luck, cousin James witnessed all this and chortled all throughout until finally, realizing that we were going to be late, he stepped in, and talked Mom into reluctantly agreeing to let me go with them. Reasoning that, because he'd already gone out of his way and made the trip to come pick me up, after all, she had no other choice _but _to agree.

And since we were going to be late otherwise, on my first day, no less, it would be better if I had someone who knew the school like he and Charlotte did to show me "the ropes" of the school, whatever that meant. Besides, she could have her day tomorrow and that brightened my mom right up again and she agreed, wishing me a "wonderful" first day.

(I could have killed him for that last bit, but since he was getting me out of a really embarrassing situation for today, I held my tongue at the time.) Needless to say, I learned that my cousin James could be one hell of a negotiator when he wanted to be. Guess it runs in the family…

So all that brings us to the here and now as we approach the school's iron gate and I take my first eye-full of the school and its grounds beyond.

"This is it!" James announces gloriously with a flourish while Charlotte claps and giggles at his theatric. "_St. Cullen's Private School_. See? Told you it's nothing special." I stare at the imposing building, nodding numbly. "Just a big, 'ole white building with lots of classrooms for instructing and molding _ther_ young minds…" By the way James says that and Charlotte is trying, unsuccessfully, I may add, not to snort, I bet he's making fun of a teacher.

Next thing I know, we are parked, James' doors swing open, he pulls his seat down and forward so that Charlotte can get out of the seat, shuts his door reverently, and I'm still in my passenger seat, petrified. I guess you could say that _St. Cullen's Private School _is a handsome school. However, the way I see it, the school is just huge and thrumming with intimidating kids that look much older than me, taller, and totally intimidating.

"Common, Peter!" Charlotte urges, coming around to my side and tapping on my window after saying "hi and hello" to about ten people in the process of five short minutes. "You don't want to be late on your very first day!"

That, somewhat gets me moving and I jerkily move my hand to grab a hold of the door handle. "Here goes nothing…" I mumble under my breath and close my eyes for a moment.

* * *

><p><em>...<em>

_Ten…_

_…Nine…_

_…Eight…_

_…_

* * *

><p>"You never know, Lottie, he might actually get detention right off the bat!" James mocks gleefully as his trunk clicks open with a beep and disappears out of sight. "He'll be a one hit legend."<p>

"Mmhmm, are you gonna let him?" Charlotte challenges. "Don't you think you'll reputation will be truly ruined then, bro?"

"Oh, leave me alone you two," I beg and leaning forward in my seat, bang my head against the dashboard.

"Can't have that, can we?" James prods and closed his trunk with our three backpacks in hand. "Therefore, no can do, little cuz! Out of the car with you!"

Slowly, I steel my nerves and swing James' car door open, before I get sick in it and he ends up killing me for ruining his new baby. Somehow, like his meticulous bedroom, the 1969 Aston Martin DBS V8 still smells like new imported and expensive leather. OCD much, perhaps, wouldn't you say?

Despite being on this planet for nearly twelve years, this is my first time attending a 'real' school since kindergarten and I obviously don't remember much of that, apart from the embarrassing pictures Mom has laying around somewhere in an album. Beyond that, I've always been homeschooled. That being said, my nerves are a wreck at the moment.

"Breathe, cousin." Charlotte reminds me with a quiet whisper, and I feel her lips move against the side of my ear, holding back bemused laughter. I do as she says and my breath leaves me in a _whoosh_. "It'll be okay." Given the desperate lost look on my face, she chuckles. "I _promise_."

"Then why does it feel like everyone is looking at me?" I ask out of the corner of my mouth, leaning into her so I can whisper, while keeping everyone else warily in sight.

"Cause everyone is, silly!" she shrugs, as if that makes it all better.

With severe difficulty and managing not to blanch, I swallow and ask, "And why is everyone looking at me?"

"Well, don't start getting a big head on your first day, Peter." Charlotte rolls her eyes at me. "Believe it or not, sure, they've noticed that you're new, obviously." Cue _'DUH'_ expression. "But what they're _really _looking at, like every other morning, is the ride we just rolled in with, with envy."

"Why?" I ask. I mean, the car is beautiful and all but what's the point of envying someone over a car? She rolls her eyes again. I think girls do that a lot, but not Bella. Thankfully, Bella isn't like most girls and instantly, I'm really glad she isn't. One of the many reasons I really like being in her company.

"Apparently, this baby never gets old," she adds, patting the shiny, cobalt exterior of the Aston Martin affectionately. "They just wish they were you right now. James doesn't let anyone but me near it." She looks at me pointedly, adding, "And now _you_."

"That doesn't sound like a good way to make friends on my first day of school," I observe, dismayed, growing nervous again.

"Not to worry little cuz, I got your six," James cuts in, having fetched our backpacks from the trunk and handing them over the moment he comes near us. "You can relax."

"Thanks," I mumble, thanking him for handing me my bag and his promise, both, and taking my backpack from him, I shoulder it.

"No prob." He grins, his smile sincere. But it quickly vanishes as he looks at me from head to toe speculatively. I fidget. "And, by the way, _dude_, that hairdo isn't doing you any favors," he adds, looking at my mom's last attempts at taming my hair before relinquishing her precious one to the dark side with contempt.

"Oh, yeah…" I sigh, mortified, and run my fingers self-consciously through my flaxen cowlick.

"Don't tell him that James!" Charlotte chastises and with a tight, unconvincing smile, assures me, "It doesn't look _that _bad."

_Yeah, it looks terrible! _I note. Something that is quite evident the very moment I look at my reflection on the door's side mirror and see no other alternative but to grimace ate the sight of my hair. Since it's slightly too long for my mom's liking, it gets on my eyes, she combed it to the side with some gel and water and now, I look like a dork.

Meanwhile, as I stare in the mirror at my disastrous hair, I think I hear Charlotte momentarily break away from us and say hi to someone or another. I really need to do something about my hair… And so, I try to ruffle it into something messy and not glued to my cranium. It barely works, and I scowl.

James chuckles at my face and motions for me to approach him but I don't, I continue my attempts. "Aunt Athenodora sure did a good job." Thank God I recognize sarcasm when I hear it. Cause James sure is one sarcastic bastard. "Can you imagine how embarrassing it would have been if she'd dropped you off today?" he adds more seriously, leaning closer so that only I can hear him.

"Actually," I groan, "I can." He chuckles.

Nodding, he says, "Like first day of prekindergarten…" James and I shudder at the thought.

"Why do you think I asked you for a ride?" I confess.

"The spectacle of tears, hugs, kisses, and pictures and more pictures to capture the moment…"

"Please, stop…" I beg him weakly, eyes wide in mock horror, while trying to hide my smirk despite my obvious grimace. He nudges my shoulder and musses up my hair some more. I look up at him, hopeful. "Better?"

"It'll have to do for today," he approves after a moment of critical inspection and tweaks here and there. At least he didn't grimace…

If you'd asked me half an hour ago if I ever thought that my cousin James would be styling my hair so seriously, I would have laughed in your face, thinking you were mad, and given you a solid 'no' as an answer. Now, however, I'd say, I never saw this one coming. I'd even dare say we're bonding, not that I'd ever admit to even thinking that…

"Boys…" Charlotte sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes, and buffing her neon pink nails against her crisp, white T-shirt. When did she get back? I wonder, glancing at her briefly and smiling impishly. She shakes her head, probably thinking I'm a lost cause. "Honestly, sometimes, you boys can be worse than girls."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear that, Charlie," James says, glaring at Charlotte who glares right back and sticks her tongue out. For some reason, she hates it when James calls her Charlie. I think it has something to do with the fact that he, somehow, kind of manages to make the name sound like a jeer while delivering it with a leer.

"Thanks cuz," I say honestly, ignoring Charlotte and James' building animosity. Otherwise, things might get ugly soon. Charlotte looks grateful for my deviation and James looks momentarily surprised as he blinks sideways at me. Then, like a light bulb, his grin is back and he understands and he responds.

"Don't mention it!" He pats me on the back, squeezing my neck affectionately. I relax.

"So…" I trail off, a smirk on my face, "do I pay you back in installments or…?"

"You can be my little bi–"

"Oh, no…" Charlotte groans a moment later with obvious disgust, interrupting whatever James was about to say. "Red alert."

Glancing sideways at her, I silently ask what's wrong as I notice James put an arm over my shoulder and go rigid. Her response comes in the form of a disgusted jerk of her chin in the general direction of a parting crowd that seems restless with furious whispers.

As my eyes try to find who could have elicited such a distinct reactions from both of my cousins, I see _her_. A girl with flaming red hair of wild, long tresses. Also, I see that she is the once parting the crowd like the red sea as everyone makes way for her or makes themselves scarce, leaving room for the redheaded girl to make her way from the back of the throng.

However, I also notice all the looks of disgust she's getting from every girl in the vicinity and also, the lust from almost every male eye following her every step in equal measure. Critically assessing her approach, I decide that she is older than the three of us and observe that she has elfin features, striking green eyes and a barely-there skimpy outfit that makes her look older still.

The only thing I'm not so sure about, however, is if I could catalog her as "beautiful" or simply intimidating. Noticing that my eyes are on her, the redhead offers me a smile that practically makes me shiver in apprehension, since it looks more like a leer. And yet, I can't seem to look away… The more I look at her, the more I begin to believe that she can devour anyone with that gaze –and right now, she looks like she might want to devour _me_. Honestly, It _freaks_ me out.

It only takes me a moment to figure out who she has her sights on as she saunters away from the dispersing group and her eyes switch over from me to my left, where James' still has his arm over my shoulder and looking nonchalant. Belying all notions of that being remotely accurate, James' hand tightens painfully over my shoulder as he meets her eyes and with a grim scowl set on his mouth, watches as she tries to make a beeline in our direction with a ridiculous sway to her square hips.

Guess she thinks that makes her look sexy. On the other hand, I beg to differ and judging by the fact that James barely wants to acknowledge her anymore, he probably thinks the same. Or maybe I'm deluding myself. But there's one thing that _is _clear to me, and that is, that my cousin and this girl have some kind of history together.

My assessment: whoever the redheaded is, she is not a very nice girl. Therefore, someone I must avoid at all costs in the future, because right now, it's too late for that.

"Who's that?" I ask Charlotte as quietly as possible, before the redhead's within earshot.

"Icky Victoria, the school's 'Scarlet Harlot,' from what I hear…" she replies darkly with a raised brow to accompany her sneer. Nodding, as I understand, I shrug. As if I would argue the vine she gets her information from. Nope, I'm too smart for that. I've learned my lesson.

"So who's the little twerp, Jamie?" her sultry, defiant voice asks as soon as she's within audible range of James.

"None of your business, Vicky." James' claw-like grip on my shoulder shakes with suppressed anger and I glance nervously at him, seeing Victoria's eyes narrowing with desire and distaste. However, when I get a good look at my cousin, I notice that he looks impassive, almost bored, and that, apart from the hand on my shoulder shaking, there are no other signs of anger to betray his façade to Victoria.

I am impressed. In fact, James' glances at me for a millisecond and actually winks at me before returning his weary attention to the sultry redhead –Victoria. Feeling the warmth of her nearness too close for comfort I, too, turn my attention back on Victoria. She is nearer than I had expected, in fact, she has to just stretch out her arm and she'll be touching my cousin. James, sensing this, pulls me back with him slightly as he stands on his heels.

Seeing this, Victoria smirks and she reaches for James, all the same, while trying to wrap her arms around him. Somehow, she completely avoids touching me as she glues every inch of her body against James' stoic frame.

Charlotte and I watch with equal amounts of disbelieve, fascination, and disgust as Victoria claws her way over James' chest, up to his shoulders, pauses, and then, attempts to snake her arms behind his neck. By now, I'm really wishing James would let go of my shoulder so I can get away from their PDA, but I say nothing and just watch the train wreck that is Victoria in action.

"Now, Jamie, don't be like that," she pouts, pressing closer to James and myself. However, before she can fully sink her acid green nails completely into him and ensnare him, James wards her off with a scathing sneer, and grabbing onto her forearms none-too-gently, removes her touchy-feeling hands off of his body with a shudder full of revulsion.

To say Victoria looks stricken is an understatement.

_Ouch… _

"I thought I told you never to touch me in public, for one, or call me that," James practically growls at her the next moment. "There's people watching," he glances at Charlotte, "and my little sister and cousin are here. Go _away_ now."

_Double ouch… _But she recovers quickly, _much_ too quickly.

Finally, he drops his arm from my shoulder and I slide to the right, closer to Charlotte.

As soon as I'm by Charlotte's side, she grips onto my forearm, looking livid. "How _dare _she do that to my brother?" she hisses in a whisper against my ear. Unsure what to say, I shrug.

True, most of the time James and Charlotte are at odds with each other and they can barely stand to be together in the same room, but at the end of the day, they are family and whoever messes with one of them, messes with both of them. Therefore, Victoria better watch out or Charlotte will be on the hunt shortly.

"Oh, come on, don't be mad at me, James," Victoria pleads, trying to play the role of a sweet girl as she pouts. It really doesn't suit her. Charlotte is gripping my arm so tightly that it feels numb and I feel her shake next to me, she's still furious. "I'm only curious…" she purrs and goes to caress James' face but he catches her wrist in a strong hold and yanks her away as he moves nearer to the gathered crowd. They've been eagerly watching all along.

"Yo!" he says, addressing the masses of onlookers, voice barely rising above the clatter. Listen up, everyone!" Still, somehow, he is heard and all the chattering and whispering halts and all eyes are on him. Dead quiet settles as they wait to hear James out. "Now, do I have everyone's attention?"

"Yeah!" the crowd shouts back, unanimous.

Meanwhile, I am trying my best to spontaneously go into chameleon mode and blend in with the car's cobalt. _Better luck next time,_ my brain mocks. I squirm. Charlotte nudges me and I manage a timid smile. James glances my way and winks, ego ever growing. Shaking my head, I roll my eyes and relax significantly as Charlotte giggles next to me.

"He's such a show off…" I huff.

"He just loves the attention," agrees Charlotte and her grip on my arm lessens as she relaxes slightly.

"This here is my little cousin, Peter," James explains, walking back over to me and throwing an arm over my shoulder, leaving Victoria on her own and looking worse for wears as she stares daggers at me. This little revelation is met with equal curiosity and what I can only label as _fear_. "Say hi Peter," James urges, squeezing my shoulder.

"Hey," I manage and try not to breathe too quickly.

"There you have him!" James smiles winningly. The crowd looks uncomfortable but they smile back and I manage a weak wave at some. "He's gonna be coming to school here from now on and I've decided to take him under my wing. He's my little cousin, after all!"

And more of that fear, I see._ Maybe I won't be making any friends today after all. _

"So you all know what that means, right?" That question is met with most people avoiding eye contact with James and me. "If any of you oafs dares to do anything to him, even touch his pretty blond head, you'll have me to answer to," James adds, eyes on Victoria the Harlot now. "Get it?" he presses. They all nod. "Treat him nicely and make him feel welcome, got it?"

"Sure man," I beefy kid mumbles, looking me up and down and finding me all bones and barely any meat. I hope. I'm not exactly tall for my age, but I'm not exactly short either… just, somewhere in between and still growing.

"Thanks." He grins reassuringly at everyone and they chuckle uncomfortably. "So that's it folks, nothing more to see here! Get back to business." With that dismissal, like the red sea, they parted. Turning his attention back to Victoria before she manages to slink away, he says, "Does that answer your question?"

Face pinched, Victoria nods and walks away with the rest of the flowing student body in the direction of the double doors leading inside. Once or twice, I think I hear someone say my name but, unable to locate where the direction of the voice is coming from, I decide that I'm not the only kid named Peter in this world and convince myself that I'm just hearing things.

Turning to Charlotte, I notice her scowl after Victoria and waving impatiently to someone. Feeling my eyes on her, she turns to me with a ready smile that looks slightly too forced to see me arching a brow at her. Some kid with dreadlocks calls to James and he goes to greet the boy, leaving Charlotte and I to chat among us.

"I have no idea what just happened…" I mumble, but she doesn't hear me or pretends not to.

"See? It's not so bad," Charlotte tries to ease, but her smile is slightly perturbed and her eyes seem far away.

"No, it's worse…" I practically groan, hoping to distract her from her dark thoughts by being overly dramatic.

"Yeah, well, James is nothing if not intense…" she muses, smiling lightly. "You should have been here to witness the talk-to he had with this boy that dared to pull my hair one too times. Even _I_ was scared!" She shudders. "Actually, be glad you weren't."

"Hey, you two, let's hurry," James interrupts, running back up to our side. "Lottie, get to class."

"But-"

"No buts," he interrupts, voice firm and authoritative. "I have to see little Peter to the main office to get his shi- crap together. _You_ need to get to class."

"Sure," Charlotte huffs. "Catch you at lunch, Peter," she bids, kisses my cheek and after impudently glaring at James, scurries away with a scowl on her pretty face.

"And here I thought she would give me more grieve," James muse, staring after his little sister with a fond smile and scratching at the five o'clock shadow on his chin absentmindedly. Shrugging he looks down at me and nudges me, saying, "Common, keep up. We need to get you your things for the day. Administration can be such a pain…"

Just then, shrieks, of the female variety, brake out all around us, stopping our advances.

"What the hell?" James mumbles, turning to look at whoever's causing the elated commotion with interest. Eyes landing on the instigator, they darken and his mouth turns into a mocking scowl. "Whatever. Nothing to see here," he pushes me onward, "Peter, let's keep going."

Now, I'm curious. But just when I'm about to turn to glance behind, James grabs me forcefully by the collar of my shirt and pushes me toward the school.

"But–" I start to argue. Trying to catch a glimpse of whatever is going on, before James decides to grab me, none-too-gently, by the neck and starts pushing me onwards, in the opposing direction of the massive traffic.

"Trust me, there's nothing to see here," he tells me roughly. If I know my cousin, and I do, I'd say that he's royally pissed, and for some reason I don't know. And being the curious being that I am, I really want to know who has the ability to piss him off so badly so I can talk to them and get a few pointers.

"Easy for you to –_uff_!" My sentence is abruptly cut off as a pair of arms wrap, vice-like, around my waist from behind me and I stumble with the force.

"What on earth?" James asks as his grip on my neck is weakened and I proceed to fall onto the floor with someone attached to my waist and no way to properly break my fall. The moment we hit the floor, everything hurts and I know I'll have a few bruise and scrapes for the rest of the day.

"Sorry Peter!" I hear a very familiar and apologetic voice mumble over me. My heart momentarily stops and stutters into full throttle as I recognize the voice.

"Bella?" I breathe incredulously and open my eyes. First, the only thing I see is pavement as I stare and then, I notice chocolate brown hair, just over my shoulder as the small person above me shifts. Holding my breath, I close my eyes, almost not daring to hope!

"It is you!" Bella giggles, shuffling over me as she tries to get us untangled and just keeps on falling back onto me as I try to shift under her to help her out, somehow.

Regardless, James makes this task easier a moment later as he steps in and in a very jerky manner, he yanks me off of the floor and to my feet, after settling Bella on hers, rather carefully, without so much as taking his eyes off her. All the while, holding her at arms length with one arm.

"Thanks, James," I mutter awkwardly, trying to stop their staring contest. Bella glances at me briefly, smiles, and then looks at James' hand on her shoulder curiously.

"Bella?" James echoes, momentarily looking around him as if to make sure that we were still at school. There's a pause and then, he drops his hand back to his side, flushing around the ears. Still, he stares at her, even as she walks inches toward me and attempts to hide from James' intense stare behind me. My insides do summersaults with her nearness and I shuffle on my feet.

"Hi James," Bella greets timidly around my shoulder, causing James to further flush at the ears and look away with a mumbled hi in return. Shuffling on her feet and entwining her fingers with mine, Bella glances my way shyly when I look back over my shoulder at her.

"Hey," I say dumbly and she smiles, saying a quiet hello back. Her hand is warm in mine and it is the only thing that reminds me that this moment _is_ real and truly happening, though it shouldn't be.

"I thought it was you," she tells me covertly, while shooting worried glances at James.

"So, uh, how –what are you doing here, Bella?" I ask, aghast.

"Aren't you happy to see me?" she asks, eyes rounding and swelling with tears. "I thought you'd be happy to see me…"

"No! I mean, yes!" Wishing I could somehow kick myself, I grin sheepishly. "Of course I am!" Can't have her crying! Appeased, Bella smiles a watery smile and blinks her tears away. I sigh, relieved. "I was so worried about you…"

_Though I can't remember, for the life of me, why I was so worried…_ Her hand is so warm and fits so nicely in mine and I'm still holding it…

"Really?" she asks, looking up at me dubiously with those big, puppy dog eyes and gently biting her lower lip. That look… I don't know exactly what it is about it, but it makes me want to disappear out of this stratosphere so that I can have coherent thoughts again. And talking about coherent thoughts… I swear I just heard someone calling Bella's name.

"Yes," I say instead, foregoing every other thought.

"Ahem," James clears his throat. "So _what _are you doing here, Bella? _How_ did you get here?"

"Oh!" Bella gasps and her free hand covers her 'o' shaped mouth as she glances nervously around as if looking for someone. Thinking I could help, I look with her, though I'm not much help at all. "I was with–"

"Bella!" a young, male voice calls, sounding panicked. I look in the direction of the voice but there are still too many students milling around for me to pick the speaker out of the crowd. Instead, I turn my eyes on Bella as her hand tightens around mine.

"That's right…" Bella mumbles, looking suddenly guilty.

"Did you find her yet?" Another voice inquires, the person whom it belongs to, presumably, trying to shuffle his way between the crowds of milling students.

"Would I be calling her name if I did, Emm?"

"Sheesh! Touchy… point taken, it was a simple question man, chill," the 'Emm' guy responds. "I think I saw her heading toward the double doors anyway. Look around there." The first voice says something I can't quite catch in return and the 'Emm' guy chuckles, before saying, "She's a quick one that midget." His voice, despite the insult, sounds fond and curiously familiar.

"There you are…" The first voice breathes as someone approaches us and I see that I recognize him. He was _Prince Charming _at Bella's birthday party. Jasper, I think his name is. However, it seems that he doesn't notice anyone but Bella despite the fact that I am right next to her and holding her hand, while James is glaring daggers at him, and the milling students keep bumping into him. Actually, I notice that there are a lot of girls trying to get his attention in various ways as they keep fanning themselves and blushing. _Curious…_

"I'm here?" Bella greets, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible and waving our connected hands, smiling coyly. James' still glaring at him, I note, frowning. So he's the one that makes James' angry, I conclude and decide that I like him even more than I did the last time I met him.

"Very funny." From his face, you can tell it isn't. Regardless, that doesn't stop his swarm of fangirls from swooning at the sound of his voice. Still, Jasper remains oblivious. "Do you know how mad my Mom–" Jasper, noticing our entwined hands, stops mid sentence. He looks from our entwined hands up to my face and he blinks at me, eyes widening in recognition. "Peter?" he inquires and noticing the sneering cousin to my right, adds, "James? Why are you two?" He is at a loss for words. "How?"

"Uh, hey," I greet, "Jasper, right?"

"You know him?" James asks scathingly, suddenly looking betrayed. "How the hell do you know _him_?"

"From Bella's birthday party," Jasper provides, very unhelpfully, in an attempt to antagonize James. It works.

"You were there?" James looks about ready to blow a casket as he looks accusingly at me and then at Jasper and Bella. Blushing slightly, Bella blinks innocently up at him and he looks away, ears slightly pink.

"How do _you _know Peter?" Jasper interjects before I can say anything.

"James' my cousin," I interject quickly, bringing the focus back to me. Anyone with a brain can tell there's bad blood between these two. "Today's my first day here." I shrug. "And he attends this school." I smack my head with my free hand. "Though I guess you already know that."

"He does."

"I do."

_Wow… stereo… _

"Hey Jasper, man, aren't you supposed to be looking for the missing link before Rosie goes and finds a creative way to make our testicles–" Emmett, I only now realize, stops talking as he takes in the scene and atmosphere he just walked into. "Well, do me sideways," he says, grinning impishly, "what the hell did I just step into?"

"Not now, Emm," Jasper sighs, a weary plead.

Emmett, however, says it. "The Twilight Zone?" This time, it is Jasper whose about to smack his head but thinks better of it and smacks the satisfied looking Emmett instead. Emmett makes a show out of it, making me laugh and Bella blush while giggling as he winks at her. "Okay. I'm good," he promises, "I'll shut up now."

"Good idea," Jasper and James both mumble while shooting daggers at each other with their eyes.

"Be nice to Emmett!" Bella pouts, stomping her little foot and fisting Emmett upon his insisting.

"That's my homie," he says approvingly. Bella grins toothily and looking proud of herself.

Meanwhile, I'm trying really hard not to laugh… _again_. But James' very annoyed face cuts me up short and sobers all of us up.

"So what the hell do you two want with Bella?" James asks and the way he phrases that sentence, it sounds like there's some kind of underlying threat there. Judging by the dark look Emmett and Jasper exchange, I'm right.

"My Momma picked Bella up from school or something yesterday," Jasper explains defiantly. James, well, he looks like he's about to pop a vein as he bristles. I listen intently.

"_Why_?"

"Bella, let's go," Jasper extends his hand out for Bella to take, ignoring the glaring James and gaping Emmett. "Momma is waiting in the car to take you to school and she's been worried sick, we shouldn't keep her waiting any longer."

"Okay!" Nodding, Bella squeezes my hand, stands on tiptoes, kisses my cheek, sending shockwaves all throughout my body, and takes Jasper's hand, skipping merrily to his side under the incredulous stares of James, Jasper, and Emmett. All in the blink of an eye, while I remain dumbfounded, in cloud nine and ascending as I flush pink all over.

Jasper, it seems, recovers first. Looking at Emmett, he adds, "If you don't want a fly in your mouth, Emmett, _close _it." Insert triumphant smirk and Emmett, rigorously, closes his mouth as instructed. "Let's get going, Bella." With that, Jasper whisks Bella with him, walking toward the school gates hand in hand with her amid a sea of swooning and sighing girls that every now and again, hindered their process as they reached for his attention.

"Well, if you'll excuse us, this princess needs to go to school," Emmett dares to timidly interrupt the awkward silence after we were all left staring at Bella and Jasper's retreating forms without so much as a word goodbye. With that, he turned and followed quickly after them.

"Later, Bella…" I manage to croak out, two minutes too late, holding my palm to my cheek to try and preserve the sensation.

"Snap out of it cuz!" James faraway voice filters roughly through the fog in my putty brain. "Let's go…"

"Huh?" I mumble quizzically as I feel a tug on my collar. James jerks his head impatiently toward the school's double doors. "Oh… yeah…yeah… school…"

Just as the double doors shut closed behind us, the last tardy bell rang through the almost empty hallways as James lead the way to Administration and just as we walked through the office door, the shrill bell that announces the commencement of class sounded.

"Welcome to _St. Cullen's Private School_, my name is Mrs. Giddeon," a nice looking old lady with grey hair that looked a little on the side of blue greeted from behind her desk as she pulled something up on her computer that James had told her about.

"Hello," I managed to mumble. "Thank you."

"You must be Peter Faidon?" she probes kindly and her eyes, large behind thick glasses, look inquiringly at my face.

"Yes," I answer. Methodically pulling out my wallet from my back pocket and showing her my ID. Unsurprisingly, I was still somewhere up on cloud ninety with no intentions of coming back down.

"Thank you sweetheart, that'll help," the sweet grey-blue haired lady says, Mrs. Giddeon, and I smile at her. "I'm just printing out your class schedules for today and getting you both late passes to class. So sit tight, it won't belong now."

"Thank you," James offers for the both of us. Mrs. Giddeon glances at me, looking concerned so I smile genuinely at her as the memory of Bella kissing my cheek runs through my mind. Needless to say, I light up from the inside and that sets her mind at ease. I think she thinks my strange behavior is due to nerves and since I'm not about to correct her, I let her think that.

Regardless, I find myself thinking about Bella and I can't help but think that my day is going better than expected and I feel myself flush pink all over as I touch my left cheek with my hand, it feels overly warm... like Bella. My smile widens and by now, I'm sure I resemble the Joker but I just can't seem to care. I'm happy! Today is turning out to be the best first day of school ever!

Just then, Mrs. Giddeon returns with a folder and she hands it to me, smiling kindly and telling me that everything I need to help me through my day is within it. The folder feels heavy with papers that are, probably, loaded with information. Again, as James and I make to leave, and Mrs. Giddeon takes her seat back behind her desk, she says, "Welcome to _St. Cullen's._"

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><p><strong><em>AN: _**_Shorter than my usual but I just wanted to get something out there for you guys to read. More coming soon…_


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